I'm married to my work
by risa zugva
Summary: Attempt at making Sherlock/John romance. In spite of rating it will be slow developing, if I carry it through.
1. I'm flattered

**A/N: Before I enter this story I have some things to say about it. First I'm not sure I'll go through with it. It had haunted me for few days before I've gave in and write down first chapter. It should be pure slash John/Sherlock. I feel a bit uncomfortable about it, but they are such intense pairing with so much obstacles to even imagine them together. I've started to think about the problem of putting them together after seeing Baskerville Hound.** **With John being so straight, and Sherlock so asexual it seemed like a challenge. While reading fan-fiction about them it seemed that as soon as they would be paired in the story they would turn into someone else****, like even one touch would change who they are. I've played this story in my mind and it seems I can reach the end with them entangled but I'm still not sure can I really do it. Because those two are quite complex characters. I know I'm over-thinking this, but that's normal for me.**** So if you're going to get in this story you should know it would probably be slow in growing intimate aspect's of relationship, and I'm not sure if I'll go into cases, and episodes, or stay outside of them.**

**Disclamer: I don't own these characters, or making money out of it, it's just fun and the challenge.**

**Beta-ed: star-chan89 (welcome aboard)  
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><p><em>The first chapter, in which our characters meet each other. It shows Sherlock perspective on the matter.<em>

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><p>"In fact he has likings of you Mrs. Hudson" said Sherlock when he announced that a new tenant will be moving in. He had said that before John Watson even came to look at the place. Of course, Sherlock had believed the proof of his eyes, and his eyes did tell him that the soldier with the imaginary wound would be moving in. He had that bored expression on his face; he wasn't expecting any surprises in his life. John thought that he had seen what the entire world could offer, and it was disappointing a thought.<p>

Sherlock understood John because he always moved fast for the very same reason; to be ahead of events, to reach that feeling of discovery, the feeling of life revolving. When he discovered the answers and clues, nobody ever bothered to see he how he felt, new, excited, and alive.

The doctor with the limp, cane and bored eyes suffered in lack of that feeling of discovery. War had left him cracked for terror and the unexpected; it was difficult to adjust to the slow pace of daily life. That was good for Sherlock because that meant that John would endure his odd habits just to get a glimpse of the rush that comes with him, the rush of danger.

Of course he didn't expect anything more of his new flat mate; he rarely did expect anything crucial of other people. He thought that he would just be there to occasionally ask about something, something odd that Sherlock was conducting.

"How do you mean?" asked Mrs. Hudson in her high pitched voice.

"He looks timid, but I think he's fierce." He offered her a half of a smile.

"Oh you horrible boy" she blushed and went but Sherlock knew he was right, he knew to recognize courage when he's seen it. To stand before him and withstand his prying eyes with all of your weaknesses exposed, required a certain dose of self-awareness, and although the doctor did stand just slightly confused, he was not distressed at all. He hadn't even blinked when Sherlock suggested that his limp was false. That was new. Sherlock liked surprises, so he even went so far as to wink at the doctor, knowing that he wouldn't understand that meant that he was in no further questions asked.

Strange thing was that Doctor John Watson was in as soon as he entered the lab, even before he spoke. He sighed and looked around, really looking, at what surrounds him, instead of what most people would have done, concentrating solely on the man of their interest. Sherlock appreciated that because that meant that John would be willing to look at the things that surround Sherlock, rather than at Sherlock himself. Sherlock knew that people rarely appreciated his unique personality.

Strangely enough, Sherlock discovered that he rather enjoyed the company of John Watson. He made him smile almost instantly, which is not something Sherlock easily does, except when a big crime is involved. And as it would happen, a big crime did come his way. The only smear on that cherry topped cake was the ever obnoxious Anderson, he couldn't stand the sight of him. He needed an assistant, someone he could talk to so that he could see his thoughts clearer. Lestrade was too old to play, he just stood there waiting to be told the answer, and he wasn't fun at all because he refused to show his confusion, to be exposed in that way. Not like little doctor whose face was a mirror of unclouded confusion, his face could tell a story without one irritating word.

Sherlock stopped in his tracks. Doctor, John was an army doctor, which had to mean experience. He returned for John, and, not to Sherlock's surprise, he went with him.

In the cab he could sense Doctor Watson squirming trying to find the right words to form his questions. It was entertaining the amount of restraint that the man held on himself, so Sherlock stepped outside of his usual boundaries and offered him a question free zone. When Sherlock did disclose his findings the little doctor not only approved but even expressed admiration towards Sherlock's conclusions. That was odd and unexpected.` Piss off` was a common reaction, acknowledgment came very rarely.

Sherlock must say he was as brilliant as a mirror on the crime scene, although bit uncooperative amongst a crowd, but that could be fixed, as could his leg, but that would wait.

"You are aware that you talking that out loud" Sherlock spent a moment of his precious time to inquire about that, because it was most puzzling that someone would so openly share points and enjoy moments of clarity from someone else. It was refreshing, he felt on fire.

Sherlock rushed off in search of a suitcase. He couldn't possibly wait for John and his psychosomatic limp. There wasn't time for such a delay, it was most inconvenient, and he would have to fix it tonight. The doctor was useful, so he would need to let go of his imaginary defect.

When he had found the suitcase he jumped for joy and raced to the flat. John wasn't there, that was annoying, but he decided to wait. The killer had striked once this evening; he probably wouldn't go in search of a new victim until at least tomorrow. After John didn't respond to his first two messages, so rude and slow, he sent a third one with the word danger in it. That would certainly drag out the soldier in him.

Of course it did. Unfortunately doctor's mind was slow so Sherlock called him an idiot, but he immediately dismissed it with one fast `almost everyone is` to cut off John's need to defend himself. Enchanting was the fact that he did let it pass and focused on the case finally realizing what has he doing. After that it took only small banter about John filling in for the skull, it was just a joke, and John seemed to pick it up easily.

Sherlock didn't expect much from their stake out, so he had a plan for how to distract the doctor from his limp. In the diner he had put his cane out of reach in the corner of the both. It was a good position to be forgotten, now all he needed to do was to sit long enough for John to forget it and, if real danger doesn't appear, produce it in an instant and sudden way which would require a fast reaction.

John had eaten and produced small talk. Sherlock was barely listening, responding without second thought. His mind was racing, calculating the time that the killer would need to decide whether or not to turn up, how he, Sherlock, would approach the situation, and finally to figure out what would reveal and divide the killer from the surrounding crowd.

John asked him about having a girlfriend and he responded automatically.

"Girlfriend. No, not really my area" he admitted his general apathy towards the matter. True there were certain females that he could charm if he was in desperate need for it, but he would put them in their place instantly destroying any illusion that he would ever be involved in such a trivial matter.

After that came the boyfriend question and John got Sherlock's full attention for the first time that night. He started to squirm under Sherlock's probing gaze trying to reassure him that it is fine if he has.

"I know its fine" Sherlock said sternly but John held his gaze with a smile not backing down.

"So you have boyfriend" he continued.

"No" was all Sherlock said in return, keeping his gaze on John, observing his reaction.

"Right, okay, you're unattached, just like me. Fine, khm, good."

Sherlock looked away because the subject had ended, and John didn't show any signs of real discomfort about the subject but then he replayed the last bit in his head. It wouldn't be productive if the doctor was left under impression that Sherlock would be available for any kind of emotional involvement. John was a fairly attractive man in his open and blunt way. It was flattering that he was interested because there was something interesting about him, more than meets the eye, but Sherlock had decided long time ago that those kinds of engagements were futile and a waste of time. That's why he gave the subject a few more words to be sure John has got the right idea about him.

"Thank you" he said when he saw John wasn't expecting anything and was willing to accept even his marriage to his work. That was the spot on which would people call him freak or something like that and walk away, John continued to eat.

The cab didn't move during their conversation, nobody got in, and nobody got out. Why a cab? What was clever about it?

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><p><em>So I do think first episode is teasing with Sherlock gayness giving us the space to be fangirls, but to me it seems he is telling the boyfriend is more likely option. And to defend my position on the matter I will point out that he is barely aware of Molly's interest, and it has to hit him on the head to realize in S02E01, but for John he's immediately assuming he is interested and acts like it's normal thing to be. And he is completely unfazed by other people's assumption they are in relationship.<em>

_Don't know if there will be another chapter._


	2. You have just killed a man

**A/N: So apparently I still haven't find a way to get rid of this story. So till further notice I'm in a search for a beta for this story. I do need one to make this more readable since I'm not a native speaker.**

**Spoiler alert: Study in Pink**

**Beta-ed: star-chan89  
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><p><em>Second chapter in which Sherlock's been rescued by his new companion.<em>

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><p>They ran, and John, as expected forgot his cane. Unexpected however, was the laugh, and they did laugh effortlessly together. It seemed that the small doctor enjoys the same sort of rush of adrenaline and silly chases. He appreciates the irony of life. He will do, Sherlock decides, he will be a good audience. Like he said about their murderer, it was a flaw of geniuses that they did need an audience. It had been ages since he had a good audience. It was fun.<p>

"Shut up." was the thing Sherlock told John, disbelief on his face when he realized that Sherlock was an addict before. Obviously Doctor Watson didn't think much of drug abuse. Luckily, that was over, but he always had some stash just in case. It made things easier, because for him the worst thing was lack of choice. His time in rehab clinic was just awful. He had endured it to prove Mycroft wrong. His experiments with drugs were just an attempt to improve his mental abilities, but in the end it had proven to be a failure; a thing people could turn against him. Damn Lestrade, he knew him all too well, he knew there had to be that stash somewhere. His unwillingness to play was getting worse.

Sherlock finally got to the solution about Rachel. It was a perfect clue and they all looked at him like he was the crazy one. He couldn't believe that they were unable to connect the dots between the fact that she planted her phone, worked with her phone, and wrote Rachel. It was a smart phone, Rachel was the password, he could trace down her killer. Perfect, but their faces almost ruined it so he turned on them, like he always does when he's disappointed. Luckily, John cut in through commotion with the right question and put him back on track; track that now stood still, ending uselessly on his door step.

He needed a moment of silence, he was missing something. When he realized that the cab driver on his staircase was the killer he went still, very still. There was something off with his behavior, and Sherlock needed to talk to him alone, before the police surround him with impenetrable walls and attorneys. This one was clever, he needed to know.

Only Watson noticed his departure and odd behavior, but he managed to answer him in his normal tone. John didn't know him all that well, and with the commotion, he probably won't go investigate.

Sherlock followed the killer convinced that he wouldn't submit to his tricks and that the gun was a fake anyway. There wasn't any real danger, just a mystery. The mystery became just a roulette game, and the killer was plain, but as they talked he felt his pulse raising, the rush washing over him. The challenge was there, of course he could beat that man, cabbie had just had a string of luck. The man insulted him and poked. Sherlock wasn't very good at backing down in the face of mocking; he had a habit of fighting, proving and beating. He looked at the pill against the light and he was almost sure. He didn't think anymore, that was what this was all about, to beat them, to prove that he was the best. In that moment there was a bang and the killer went down. Sherlock turned but there was no one there. He was still in the rush of the moment wanting to know if he was right. When that passed, he extracted a name from the dying man. He had no compassion for him.

While he waited for the police and for them to determine and examine the scene, everything went back to normal slow pace and he became boring once again. His mind was back to its normal pace when he started to think about the shooter. He stood and began to describe him to Lestrade.

"Man, probably with military history" He looked at John who stood there stable and unmoved, impassive expression on his face like he's looking at something boring and ordinary "and nerves of steel." John looked away with an innocent movement of his eyebrows, a bit too expressive and Sherlock stopped realizing that he was describing John; a soldier with fighting experience, moral standards, and nerves of steel that was shown all day long while dealing with Sherlock's whims.

"Ignore me." he said to Lestrade and started to say all the things he would never say about himself. That he is in shock, and that he can't think straight and was not really paying attention to what he was saying. He just wanted to shake Lestrade off and reach Doctor Watson, to examine him up close.

John looked at him steady and stable without any sign of stress, anything that would gave him away. Even after he realized Sherlock knows there weren't any sign of backing down, apologizing or regret.

"You have just killed a man." Sherlock said trying to get John's reaction, but even then he didn't hide from his action.

"Well he wasn't a very nice man." he said looking around and Sherlock was impressed. His mild description of a serial killer that made people kill themselves just for fun, showed that John was a man of his action, ready to stand behind his decisions and not feeling obligated to pretend and deny the necessity of his act of defense.

That's why he smiled and stopped examining John features in search for stress, trouble or all that excessive emotions that makes guilt build up until people expose themselves. There wasn't any of that on John, he had acted as a soldier in a war, and his actions were justified.

The moment turned into small laughter as they joked about it. It was refreshing.

John then turned on Sherlock telling that he would take that pill and didn't take his answer that he was expecting him. He dismissed it easily and called him an idiot. Sherlock smiled satisfied. It was the way he called him an idiot; he's done it with a smile, fondly, without any judgment.

"Dinner?" asked Sherlock simply.

"Starving." John answered with a smile. Then, Sherlock started to talk about how to recognize good Chinese restaurant. John walked behind him listening.

Of course then Mycroft showed pretending that he cared, which was typical and boring, but fortunately brief. Then they were off to dinner. The conversation did flow, and John kept contradicting him. After all he's seen today, and being observant enough to appreciate what he's been seeing, he still kept listening to Sherlock and didn't believe everything that he's saying. Others would usually, after finally admitting his abilities, turn him off tuning in just for the solution. John actually seemed interested in their conversation about door knobs.

After just a few days it seemed to Sherlock that John was always there. Life before him seemed distant. That was very good because life before on Baker Street was full of Mycroft and mother and their meddling. When he agreed to go through rehab they agreed to back off and leave him alone. Contacting John wasn't leaving alone, but it was very good start and it showed John's morals. Not that Sherlock cared much about morals but it did mean that he could trust his new flatmate; he didn't do that very often.

The plus on his accountability was made immediately when he was introduced by Mike. Mike was annoyingly prone to any kind of provocation and therefore had no real relationship to Sherlock, but he had a good eye for people, and Sherlock trusted his judgment on the matter. He would come from time to time to check on Sherlock, and he was the one to grant him access to St. Bartholomew's resources. He was just that kind of a friendly guy that was interested in the people around him. This was usually a very annoying quality, but he didn't display it like something that deserves a medal, so Sherlock tolerated him, not attacking his knowing smile and his assumption that he got it all figured out. It was a surprise really, probably just a struck of luck, that his head joined him and John together. Whatever it was, it worked rather well.

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><p><em>I loved the way Sherlock asked "Dinner?"<em>


	3. The game is on

**Ok, so this story is surviving. There is alerts and even reviews so here is some building blocks of John's way of thinking.**

**Spoiler alert: Study in Pink**

**Beta-ed: star-chan89  
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><p><em>Chapter three in which our hero John gets unexpected and exciting new company.<em>

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><p>John was in control. Control of his emotions and reactions, he knew what was expected of him in any given situation. He was fairly charming and knew how to ask a woman out. He just knew how to play the cards that had been given to him right. He was an ordinary looking man and somewhat shy, but that could be useful, women just didn't have any regards against him, and he knew to accept the failure and rejection of his appearance. He could also tell which women he could persuade and which were out of his league. He didn't mind that he was in, in a matter of speaking, the minor league, and he did sometimes break the rules by approaching beautiful women. Sometimes, they had unexpected cracks and desires for an ordinary man such as himself. If they were uptight and looked down on him, well he thought that was their loss.<p>

But lately, he saw no point in trying. He had nothing to offer anymore. He felt dislocated and isolated. As he looked at the people that passed him by on the street he wondered how they could be so calm, so preoccupied. John walked down the street looking in every corner, noticing every alley and odd looking man. To his disappointment there was never anything there, no danger. It's not like he was looking for danger, but it was that he felt crazy from expecting it, wrong.

When he enlisted in the army he didn't expect that it would disconnect him from everyday life. He had no plans in joining that river of everyday suits, well not completely anyway. As an army doctor with field experience he would have an army career and a well paid position, things to do, people to meet. He wouldn't have the need to meet anyone new, just the rotation and nature of the army alone would get him in contact with new faces, and appoint to him the regular faces, and everything would be sorted. Even the woman issue, they just loved uniforms. But now all that is left of that plan is a limp, a cane, and a small pension. The pension may be the worst part; he's not old, is he?

He had managed to find a room that he could afford in London, but it's small size and lack of furniture seemed to be even more demoralizing. His early morning routine of a soldier didn't help either. There wasn't anything to do; the room was just empty, and the view from the window disappointing. He stared through it anyway.

His other window out to the world was maybe even more boring and discouraging. The blog his therapist insisted he take on was a bleak reminder of his existence. Nothing was happening. He only dreamt about Afghanistan, but he will never write about it, about the colours, the feeling, the sun. Was it deranged that he felt alive there but just surviving here? There was the movement and the action; none of that was here.

Perhaps the thing was just in his limp, his damn leg, fake limp as his therapist thought. She could think that as much as she wants, but he couldn't shake it off just so. After he got up from the bed he was just unable to walk straight, the pain, the flashes of torn flesh, the noise. The irritating thing was the fact he was the doctor, he knew nature of his wound, he knew his leg was spared although Tom beside him was almost completely torn apart, his legs turned in mush. His screams still keep him wake at times. The screams weren't the problem that bothered him, he was used to that, he was a field doctor, he had become accustomed to that. It was the feeling of powerlessness; he couldn't move his arm, and there was nothing he could do for him so he just bled out there and then.

His therapist tried to reason with him about his guilt, and how he was taking over the other man's wound, but he could tell that the injury wasn't real himself, it wasn't difficult to understand, but he felt the numbness in his leg, and it was irritating.

After he got back he did have Harry to come home to, but he was angry at her and her ability to ruin her perfectly good life. She had someone to care for her in spite of everything, and she just threw it away; that was just too much. There were some of his old colleagues, and friends, but he couldn't really connect with them, especially because their lives were dependant on families and busy business schedules. And seducing women was just out of the question, something he wasn't willing to go back to, pretending that he's all right, that he has anything to smile for.

That was the sum of his mood when he bumped into Mike. Mike was a surprise by himself. John never really did connect with Mike when they were colleagues, but Mike was perceptive enough to know a thing or two about him and to connect the dots. It wasn't really uncomfortable talking to him, but it was one of those polite things John didn't expect to repeat itself. There was nothing to go on further, it was just usual friendly curiosity and that was fine, it was better than most things. But then, Mike went and tried to fix his money problem, he did have that tendency to fix things, that's why they were doctors.

"Come on, who'd want me for a flat mate?" John said mockingly thinking about his nightmares and his strange new habit of just staring at nothing, everybody would be disconcerted with that. But then Mike smiled and draws a solution out of his hat. He was rather mysterious about his colleague who wasn't a doctor.

"It's best if you should see for yourself" he persisted "to know if you can stand him or not."

John was skeptical, what could be so special about that man for such precautions? John entered the lab equipped with high tech instruments.

"Well, a bit different from my day" he said remembering simpler times, how that would look outdated now. He can't believe that it's been almost twenty years since, what did he do in meantime?

The man for which Mike didn't even told John his name asked for a phone, Mike was unfazed by request, it was like he's laughing at some inner joke, he even said exactly where he's put his phone, John has seen him do so. After a second John offered his phone and the man took it. Suddenly he was talking about his habits and what future flatmates should know about each other. John was confused, off balance. When he disclosed how he had gotten from their appearance to the flat mates, John was even more confused trying to get him to make some sense of it all. Then he got back, stood before him, and described John and his situation to the letter. Besides the fact he called his sister a brother but that made it feel all the more real. That tiny mistake made it impossible to be result of a research. Anyone could know that he has an annoying troubled sister; no man would ever behave like she does.

After Sherlock left, John just stood there confused looking at the Mike who chuckled amused.

"I'll let you discover him by yourself, there are really no words to describe him" Mike said later on and John decided not to insist and said goodbye.

After that, the day seemed less bleak. Something interesting was going on, and Sherlock seemed to be more than a little intriguing. John sat down and looked Sherlock up online finally using his window to the world to find out about something that interested him. He found his site and sat in disbelief of how dull it all sounded, and just how impossible the things he was saying were, like that he could deduce all sorts of things from fingers and postures, to recognize professions just by one look at a person. John didn't dismiss it all because Sherlock had told him things about himself not even Mike could know, like that his limp is psychosomatic and that he is seeing therapist.

The following day he went to the flat and he wasn't in control anymore, he was following, but he was a soldier, he was good at following.

And when Sherlock had asked "Want to see some more?", referring to death, violence and trouble, John was off right behind him. He felt an instant surge of excitement and looking at the pure delight that Sherlock was displaying made it even better. He wasn't the insane one here for wanting a bit more of the action.

There was a moment before, when Sherlock had left in search of something that sounded so very interesting, that the man had jumped in the air for joy. John hadn't seen anyone do that in ages, and he surely wasn't the type to jump around. It was so disappointing and hard to stay there sitting in the armchair with an elderly lady, as if he was in fact old and powerless. He got angry at his leg and everything that it represented. In the newspaper there was a picture of the man that had come to collect Sherlock; it was the DI in charge of the big case. That sounded big and John resigned himself to his position on the sidetracks when he heard Sherlock's voice pondering about him being a doctor. John was well aware of his abilities as a doctor, they had been tested in all sorts of situations.

"God yes." was his answer to Sherlock's invitation. He was desperate to see that somewhere there is still real danger and that he wasn't delusional to expect it.


	4. Mrs Hudson took my skull

**So here is new one. It turned out that building blocks of John's mind are solid bricks so I'll need one more ch to go through first episode, that is his episode and it's more life altering for him than Sherlock so it takes more time. ****I see I have more reviews than chapter, well that's new, hope you don't get bored but if you do let me know.**

**Spoiler alert: Study in Pink**

**Beta-ed: star-chan89  
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><p><em>4th chapter in which John decides his new companion is trust worthy.<em>

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><p>In the cab, Sherlock explained to John the path he took to deducing the things he knew about him from his phone, tan line and little scratches. It was extraordinary and amazing, and John said so out loud. He had a habit of sharing his thoughts freely; he saw no reason not to do so. He smiled to himself when he found out what people would usually say to such display of clarity and knowledge. It was easy to imagine people saying `piss off`, angry and agitated by Sherlock's cold demeanor, especially because he would be right about almost everything, and people did like to hide. John wasn't one to appreciate that quality in people. It made him look like a fool in front of their cold facades, but in return John found them dull and irritating.<p>

John didn't indulge in Sherlock's mistake; it was a fair mistake, especially because of Harry's nickname, she'd done it on purpose. He tried to find out more about what are they doing here, but Sherlock proved to be prone to direct questions, concentrating on things that were unimportant like the affair of the two officers. John wasn't interested in that but he still couldn't help but look at Sergeant's Donovan knees. No wonder the woman hated Sherlock.

Upstairs, there was a woman on the floor, dead. Sherlock ushered him to examine and he did so reluctantly, he wasn't used to doing criminal post mortem. His area was gunshot wounds, mines, and torn bodies. This was almost clean in comparison, but it pained him to see a woman disposed of like that. Death never gets any easier. He hadn't expected to be drawn immediately into the crime scene of the most covered crime lately. She was the suicide victim from the paper, and he was surprised by that. After that Sherlock once again showed his quite amazing powers of perception, connecting and deducing even the tiniest of facts. It was even more incredible than his conclusions about John.

John was trying to connect all of the thoughts Sherlock had thrown out while Sherlock was shouting, excitedly and incoherent. His ramblings were not understandable, but he managed to pass a part of his insight after John asked a few firm, loud and direct questions. John was used to those in the army, direct and precise is something the army trains into you.

Then, Sherlock was off and John was suddenly alone surrounded by people that didn't know him and in a place he didn't belong. He was suddenly clumsy, people kept bumping into him while they moved purposefully. John felt alone and awkward; he peeled the green suit off of himself and went out looking for a sign of Sherlock. He didn't really expect him to be there, not with the way he was dashing off strong on his feet. He finally asked detective Donovan for directions reluctantly pointing out his leg. She backed down for a second; like everyone did when faced with a handicap, but a second later she turned on him inquiring about Sherlock. John didn't like that kind of aggressive attitude, so he turned around and faced her with firm questions, not looking away, forcing her to justify her animosity towards Sherlock. Sherlock made sure that he exposed her and that she was embarrassed, but that was her own doing not his. She left with a menacing warning but John was unmoved. `There was a real violence in the world, we can't all run from it and hide, some of us have to fight` he thought to himself and turned, determined to overcome walking the distance to his flat.

When he started to walk he felt better, he could move by himself and control his directions. He gave up on taking a cab, he has to learn to move around like he is. There is a slight possibility that his stubborn body will stay this way and he has to learn to deal with it. During his walk phones that he passed by started to ring. It was one of those things his military training would tell him to pick up, to find out, that there is maybe a threat turned his way. And it was same thing his therapist would tell him to ignore, that he is too paranoid, that he isn't in a war anymore. But he was just going back from a crime scene and did spend time with strange new man who called himself consulting detective, which sounded rather presumptuous, but it worked, so he turned towards the next phone which stopped ringing as soon as another man reached for it. John stopped at the next phone box and with one last hesitation letting go of his attempts to stay on normal side and ignore everything out of ordinary, he entered and answered the phone. He wasn't surprised when a flat voice directed him to cameras on the street.

John felt utterly unprotected when all the cameras turned away from him; he was in a blind spot. He instantly felt calm, he was in control of his own reactions, and he wasn't the one to fear the danger. Death is the one thing you have to accept when you're off to battle field; otherwise you would be pretty useless.

He walked without further hesitation to the car; he won't show any fear or weakness. The woman in the car was pretty, and although she was all dressed up and posh, her face was cute and without her outfit she would look ordinary. John felt strangely confident with himself, it was a strange day after all, and he started to talk to her. He was out of his league, and sounded far too serious for any kind of effect, but he kept going all the same undisturbed by her uninterested demeanour. It wasn't the point that he got her approval, but the simple fact that he felt good enough to even try something.

Between the empty warehouse, the man with a cane who spoke in mysterious riddles who called himself an archenemy and then offering him money to spy on Sherlock, and Sherlock's messages in the midst of it all, it was so ridiculously unreal, that he believed it was happening. Melodramatic, was an understatement for both Sherlock and his `archenemy`. The Archenemy was right about one thing, although his information's about John were clearly a product of research not perception, his hands were steady from the moment he met Sherlock. He hadn't noticed that before, and now it made him happy. He hated the shaking of his hands, it made him feel like he is some sort of a wreck, not a whole man. John wasn't interested in having a conversation with that man anymore, he clearly wasn't going to kill him today, so he went in search for the danger that Sherlock was mentioning. When danger is involved the soldier in him preferred to pack a gun with him. After all, there is a serial killer on the loose.

In the car he thought about what that funny looking man said about him, that he trusted Sherlock in spite of the trust issues that his therapist always dragged out. John wouldn't agree with her assessment, he didn't have trust issues, it was other way around; people rarely deserved to be trusted. John had seen too many wrecks that people made to take people in. Sherlock seemed transparent enough not to mislead him or to lie about himself. It seemed that truth was his calling and that was what John wanted of other people, to be truthful about them, not to be flawless. Maybe that was the problem; most of the people were so consumed by their attempts to be perfect that they rarely showed anything real. For now it seemed that Sherlock is far from perfect, in fact his attitude was proven to be annoying to others, but he didn't hide from his imperfections and that was fine by John. He had some flaws of his own.

Leaving the car he tried once again to charm the woman, but it proved to be in vain as she was unreachable. When he reached the flat he was a bit agitated and pumped with adrenalin. Sherlock lied on the sofa unreachable and John knew that was something he could expect from the man in the future. It was funny really that other man had accepted him so quickly and was acting according his normal self without any attempt to be liked; it seemed he was unfazed by that need that was so strong in others. Sherlock didn't react to his warehouse adventure; it was something normal and uninteresting. John on the other hand still struggled with the implications of it all and it took him awhile to realize what he's done.

"Do people normally assume you're the killer?" John had to ask because he would never think that of Sherlock, there simply wasn't anything malicious about the man. Yes, he was brash and rude, he didn't have common courtesy just to be quiet and not say obvious, and he probably didn't even know what the proper thing to say or do in common sense of the word, but that was all very straight forward in the sense of getting to the answers. John found that killing and planning of a crime involved much of hiding, sneaking and covering up. If Sherlock was something, he was bluntly honest.

"Oh no, Mrs. Hudson took my skull" said Sherlock and after a second of confusion John got the joke, and it was funny but he still fought to keep himself on the sane side, out of the war that the man in the warehouse had mentioned.

"And I said danger and here you are" said Sherlock with a smile and took off. John cursed under his breath and went after him. There was no point in pretending in front of someone that observant, and he did want to see the war and catch that killer. If that is crazy then he simply is insane.

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><p><em>So John is coming in terms with his own need to follow Sherlock wherever. Boyfriend question up next<em>.


	5. Because you're an idiot

**Ok, this is longer one but I didn't want to divide it. That's it for Study in Pink. I'm not sure will I continue with this detailed following of the episodes or skip into season two. You can say your opinion about that to help me decide. So here goes. Thank you for reading, reviewing and subscribing. Wonder will this scare you off, if it does let me know.**

**Spoiler alert: Study in Pink**

**Still not beta-ed**

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><p><em>Chapter 5 in which Doctor Watson discovers what makes Sherlock tick.<em>

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><p>When they sat down in the booth that big and strangely polite burglar of an owner assumed John was Sherlock's date. That wouldn't bother him too much but it was second time that day he was thought to be gay. That didn't happen to him ever; he just had that straight vibe that both women and men could detect. And besides he was the part of an army and there is quite important to display straightness, that was the rule no matter what politics said about the subject. Romantic involvements just weren't suitable for the army. That kind of distraction wasn't appreciated. So John had confirmation about his straight appearance from waste number of males he was surrounded for years. Gay inappropriate jokes were common thing among the troops but John wasn't even part of that. That's why he was more than uncomfortable and surprised by the candle and second person that day that just ignored his disclaimers. He decided not to pay any attention to it. Ex burglar had similar quality as Mrs Hudson, he didn't pay attention on what other people were saying, not really.<p>

John ate and tried to scoop out something more about that archenemy but Sherlock wasn't interested in the subject, having an enemy was common thing for him like to someone to have a girlfriend. So John inquired further about possible normal thing like girlfriend. He didn't really expect it after all he had seen today. Women were easily offended and Sherlock had a lot of disturbing observations at his sleeve and he was far to untamed to have someone that could take that kind of company. But he still paused because second parts of that sentence `not really my area` could mean he has an area.

"Boyfriend?" he asked cautiously people are known to be delicate about whole gay issue, he had a gay sister so he knew that well, he got slapped on the head about it more than one time. He trained himself to be quite neutrally polite about the whole subject of rejections and disapproval that was followed by showing off and rightness rage. Sherlock looked at him and he could tell from experience that there is something there, some kind of caution and expectance of rejection, a wall and he ushered to reassure the man that it wouldn't be a problem, not with him.

"No" was the answer that wasn't surprising, if there was a man in Sherlock's life he would look different, less on the edge of dashing off on his own. John was fine with that because it made them more similar unattached and uncomplicated with all that jumping around significant half that needs to be attended to.

Sherlock misinterpreted his interest that was based in collecting the basic data about the man he was thinking to live with. John almost chocked on his food. His mind was processing like crazy trying to find a subtle way to let him down gently. Luckily Sherlock declared himself married to his work and John reassured him it is all fine, sex life of no sex life, that wasn't John concern or business. When Sherlock looked away letting his guard down John exhaled thinking to him how awkward was that. He wasn't just mistaken for gay date but mistaken for hitting on the other man.

Then the cab stopped and Sherlock talked out loud to himself exhilarated and John felt adrenalin and it hit him so hard that he stopped thinking, he was ready for action so when Sherlock jumped up he just raced behind him following him towards the danger. He just was trained that way to be back up, to run after the people with guns under the rain of bullets.

"I've got his number" said John after jumping over the hood of the car, he didn't even looked back to apologize to the driver. He just memorized cab's number.

"Good for you" said Sherlock and did his super deducting thing mumbling to himself and calculating short cut. John ran after him through alleys up the stairs across the roofs and every time when he stopped hesitating Sherlock would usher him `hurry up John` and he would hurry up, jump and skip. Not to his surprise they caught up with the taxi but as soon as they have opened the door Sherlock determined that that isn't their guy. One look was enough.

"Welcome to London" said John pretending to be police officer. He took Sherlock's ID from his hand and he admitted he's pick-pocketing DI Lestrade when he's annoying. Suddenly it all seemed so silly and childish to John and he started laughing. He hasn't laugh in ages.

The man from the cab talked to the real police officer and they started to run again this time in slow pace towards home. John hadn't notice he's thinking about Baker Street as home.

When they entered the hall and leaned against the wall panting John declared that that was silliest thing he had ever done and they laughed some more, this time Sherlock joined his laughter it was a pleasant sound. Then Sherlock declared to Mrs Hudson that he will take room upstairs, but John didn't even decided to stay, let alone take upper room.

"Says who?" John was ready to argue.

"Says the man on the door" Sherlock smiled at him undisturbed and like magic there was a knock on the door. Angelo from the restaurant was standing there with his cane in his hands. John took it with smile of awe and amazement. He was more than little grateful for that act of proving the point. John grabbed his cane firmly lucky to stand on his two feet. His damn leg was working and that wasn't something John will easily forget but there wasn't any time to give proper thank you because things were already happening again and they ran up the stairs just to find the flat flooded by police officers.

It took some time of Sherlock's shushing him and firm look to his cautious eyes to believe he would be so silly to take drugs. No, it was hard to believe someone that smart would be so stupid.

"Shut up" Sherlock replied like he could read his mind.

But then they started to talk about the case once more and John's theory that Sherlock doesn't really know what is appropriate, what now was confirmed. He said that stupid insensitive thing about woman's daughter and after a second of stunt silence he asked John `not good` John answered him no and he continued to think. It was strange really but after few moments he realized that he isn't that obsolete in this situation. Sherlock talked to him and for some reason did, after some admonishing, answer his questions. There was a mess in the room once again everyone talking, Sherlock shouting, Mrs Hudson persisting. When John realized what Sherlock is saying he got up from an armchair and stood behind Sherlock waiting for the map to upload. When result come out there was confusion. John looked in Sherlock's back and it seemed like something happened but he wasn't sure what. There was too much commotion but John tried to get something out of Sherlock's back but he sounded calm and moved very slow. Everyone seemed in frenzy.

After he was gone detectives waited for few minutes and finally gave up on pressuring Sherlock deciding it was in vain. John watched them go relieved that they didn't find anything, but something was scratching at the back of his mind. Sherlock was on to something with that phone and from what he's seen so far he wasn't the one to back out so easily. John sat down and tried to find phone's signal once more, nobody paid any attention to him. Signal was nowhere to be found. Everyone had gone and John considered going too when he realized something is missing from his hand. He was so used to pressure of the cane that he missed it. He took the cane from the box and went out but then he heard a ping on computer. When he realized what he is watching John felt the stab of panic; that brilliant stupid man was off with a killer that was capable to convince people to kill themselves. From what he learned of Sherlock in this long day wasn't reassuring about him to do sensible thing.

John ran out, got the cab and tried to get hold of detectives, but he didn't have any real numbers, nobody knew John's name, and they didn't get back to the station yet. He was on his own having only laptop to track down Sherlock. John ran down the corridors checking every open room that could be location of that pulsing dot, why can't it be more specific? He felt fear growing inside of him. It would be so stupid to die like this, he's just met him but he was far to interesting to die.

When he finally found Sherlock he was terrified. John instinctively shouted his name but it was in vain, consulting detective was in the building across the street. John felt powerless and despair took over him. He will have to watch him die. Sherlock lifted something small looking at it against the light. John pushed the window but it was still too far to be heard; only a gunshot would be so loud. John suddenly remembered his forgotten gun. He took it from his belt suddenly calm and in control. He wasn't powerless, not even wounded. John aimed waiting a second for Sherlock to reclaim his senses and throw away that pill, but then he lifted it slowly and the killer took his pill against his mouth mirroring Sherlock's gestures. The man talked while the pill was closer and closer to his mouth and John pulled the trigger. When the man fell down John froze for a moment but then his new found legs started to run carrying him towards the exit.

When he was on the street he stopped to think and changed his mind. There is no need for him to waltz in there like this, Sherlock was alive and safe and police was on their way, he did manage to tell them directions. Instead he decided to take a stroll to ease his mind. John made checks on himself while he was walking. His hands weren't trembling, his heart beat returned to normal and he didn't feel bad about what he's done. In the war you make decisions who will live and who will die all the time, no matter if it's because of bullets, mines, or lack of proper equipment. This was one of these decisions. John had a choice to let Sherlock die or he could kill the man who argued him into such choice.

John straightened himself up, put his hands behind his back firmly grabbing his right wrist with his hand and went back to the crime scene deciding he will not spill out whole truth before them. If they can figure out he did that, he will argue and defend himself because that decision he would do any day without second thought choosing Sherlock's life over killers, but civilians had different way of reasoning, choosing to close their eyes before necessity of war. As expected they were already there and John put on his inquisitive face that made people explained him things. That made even brash detective Donovan to talk to him exposing killer's method. John nodded and put now and there expressions like `dreadful business`. That was enough for her to get to real work.

John stood there behind rubber line and watched at Sherlock who was sitting down with a blanket on his back. He just sat there not noticing his surroundings for awhile and John thought he looked young. John looked at other things too, he didn't stare, but he was just really relieved that his new flatmate sat there unharmed. Sherlock stood up when Lestrade started to talk to him. John was trying to determine what he was saying; it looked like he's thinking. Will he figure it out? It didn't matter, Sherlock looked at him noticing him just now, John looked away; he did the right thing.

In the next moment Sherlock was right beside him looking at him exclusively not thinking and noticing hundred different things. He spoke low and he figured it out, John wasn't surprised by that.

"Of course I'm alright" John held himself firm and was somehow confused by Sherlock's concern, it was just death; he's seen it every day but he tried to explain his lack of compassion because he realized Sherlock is worried.

"Frankly a bloody awful cabby" he said and felt how tension eases. Sherlock backed out accepting it, and they walked away. With Sherlock's next line John started to giggle but he quickly controlled his nerves.

"That's how you get your kicks" John said to Sherlock knowing he's right "proving you're clever" he felt at ease with the other man. He felt like he knows him well, better than those people that knew him for years. Sherlock was clever beyond comprehension, and wanted to show that, but besides that he was an idiot like the rest of them. Sherlock took that with a smile and they went for dinner. John was relieved that this long day was over but then there was that archenemy and John felt his guard rising. He was on alert while they were talking but then archenemy called Mycroft mentioned mummy. It was more shocking than anything that day to discover that archenemy was Sherlock's brother.

"You can imagine Christmas dinners" Mycroft said and John didn't want to picture that. Instead John noticed that pretty assistant and feeling leftovers of adrenalin and confidence of his two legs he tried to talk to her once again. She didn't even remember his face. He cut his losses admitting to himself that he is rusted.

John walked away with Sherlock somewhat pleased with his new company. Although he was overly confident and insulted people left and right it was easy, really, to put him back to his place. All he had to do is to listen and not take his word like a law. Sherlock was brilliant but just because he was fishing in the dark all the time.


	6. A colleague

**A/N: Ok I'm not sure how it spells `row` as argument from the beginning, so I apologize if it's wrong. I've decided to go with the show and go through episodes because it's just so much fun in them, and little places to laugh and wonder. So I'll live up to my promise of slow story. If you're here just for romantic engagement you can just tune in on Baskerville's Hound, it won't be anything more substantial in that matter till then, just small hints and thoughts.** **This story could go with a song "You can shake, shake baby, but you'll never shake me" it seemed like John and Sherlock stuck on me.**

**Spoiler alert: The Blind Banker**

**No beta. Feel free to apply.**

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><p><em>Chapter 6 in which Sherlock comes in terms with having a partner<em>

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><p>"Because I had a row, in a shop, with a chipping pin machine" said John in adorable fashion. It was incredible really how cute was that all flustered and angry. Sherlock discovered that he enjoys in angry John so he wind him up from time to time just to keep him upset.<p>

"It just sat there and I yelled at it abusively" he explained further.

Sherlock hid away dropped sword and said nothing at John noticing notch on the table. Usually he would explain, he did like to show off but he discovered he doesn't enjoy as much in concerned John. And John did get concerned about all sorts of things, he was that sort of a guy, he felt obligated to feel and form opinions about his surroundings. Notch on the table was bad, fighting with man with a sword just to refuse dull case would be considered stupid and dangerous. But for some reason asking him to do Sherlock's chores was ok, he did grunted about it but it kept him feeling useful. And John feeling useless isn't something Sherlock enjoys.

Sherlock can sit and think for hours, sometimes for days and not make sound or even move, but John gets restless with nothing to do, he paces around like caged Lion, even when he is sitting down and is quiet he evaporates discomfort. That's why Sherlock keeps him busy from time to time so he can go and yell at chipping pin machine and let his steam out. After that he is capable to sit down and read newspapers. In Sherlock's opinion his need for action and adrenalin is worse than Sherlock's. Sherlock was used to be locked away in dullest of places and suffer in silence not moving, waiting and exercising his brain. But John went out there and got used to movement and unpredictable obstacles, he is just jumpy when nothing is happening.

That's why he didn't even winced on John's challenge to do his own shopping, he just let him take his card and go back. Sherlock considered briefly on how easily he trusts him with his things, he was never the one to share, but with John he could depend on his strong morals about the money. Thinking about sharing Sherlock took John computer, it was close and he wasn't in the mood to go to his room. Password was ridiculously easy and knowing John made it almost like cheating to know it. Blogger7 because he'd used it just to write his blog, and his connection to numbers was so basic that it summed up to luck number.

Sherlock opened up his email and discovered unpleasant surprise. Speaking of dull and dull places, that was two for price of one. Sherlock considered that message deeply weighing pros and cons. He had no desire to see and waste time on Sebastian or any of those `buddy's` from uni, but on the other hand if he doesn't go he'll do what is expected, be weird and useless. And he was somewhat intrigued.

John came in still agitated and slammed his laptop over Sherlock's fingers claiming his property and finally sitting and calming down. It was dull when he switched to job talk, it would be less dull to withstand Sebastian and solve small case of breaking and entering, but why to do that? Money can be more efficiently stolen in other ways.

"I have to go to the bank" Sherlock declared finally deciding to investigate possible fun motive for such act. As expected John followed behind him all assertive and observant, and quiet for a change, even his thoughts calmed down. It was easier to think that way.

Sebastian's friendly demeanour was obnoxious as usual; his way to pretend everyone is on his side, like he is pleasant kind of a guy.

"My friend Dr Watson" Sherlock slightly emphasized word friend and naturally Sebastian took it with and question mark at the end noticing anomaly like friend in his life, but of course John backed out instinctively diminishing him on colleague. Sherlock didn't appreciate his chameleon quality at this moment.

Of course Sebastian took charge over the conversation demining Sherlock and his abilities to anecdotal tale about their dull lives and sex life.

"We all hated him" he said and kept talking so Sherlock didn't say likewise. He hated that life at University, everyone so consumed with trivial things and affairs. The only reason he ever exposed them is to keep them out of his business and on a safe distance.

As usual he reduced his observing powers to a joke and he did what he avoids to do, he lied looking him in the eye just to see that short glitch of wrong assumption that made him finally cut the pleasantries and on to business for which he needs him.

"We had a break in" Sebastian declared.

Sherlock got short moment of satisfaction when he didn't take check from Sebastian's hands. Whole charade with his greeting and the way he took it out of his pocket like final act of a magic show stated that he looked forward to that moment, moment when Sherlock takes his money and starts to answer to him.

After that Sherlock forgot about him focusing on the task and it proved to be most intriguing. To climb that height to deliver a message to a broker that works in midnight had to be very important to deliverer. If Sherlock is correct they will find dead body somewhere, other things could wait for somewhat simpler way of delivering themselves. Death threat needed to be dramatic and enigmatic as this one. But why?

"You said that just to irritate him" said John bluntly and Sherlock smiled at number of observations conserved in that sentence. Sherlock should know John would see right through that polite demeanour and dismiss it.

They walked towards the cab and Sherlock explained to John enough to keep him thinking on the way. Sherlock wasn't surprised when he discovered the body on the bed. He tried to get John to think referring on the notes and bills John looked this morning before they got out. Debts were the thing that moved people on this kind of trouble. It wasn't just murder, it was a message. Something was tightly packed inside dead man's suitcase. Suitcase hasn't been unpacked and all his laundry was crumpled from pressure inside suitcase. There weren't enough things in there now to fill the case to such tight mess. That thing wasn't recovered by the killer.

Dealing with young DI was unpleasant hiccup on their way, but of course if the murderer had to deliver his threat and kill Van Coon; that did mean he didn't get what he was after. Sherlock set his search for mystery murders and of course new one turned up. Sherlock was battling with that code, what could it mean, he hasn't encountered it before, and it looked ancient. He didn't want to move while he went through his mental library of codes, languages and ciphers. Pen in his hand might help him to think, to be ready to write so he asked John for a pen. He didn't replay so he asked him again when he appeared at his peripheral sight about hour later. John distracted him for a moment with some she/it issues but he focused back to the task for which he would have to ask for advice, this was beyond anything he'd encountered before.

Other murder opened the way to new DI so they could get moving. In apartment of that new victim Sherlock explained all about climbing killer. It's real wonder how people are reluctant to believe in most plausible solution when there isn't anything more likely. They would rather believe in magic keys and holes in security than simple act of climbing that isn't that hard. Even the monkeys can climb. Sherlock noticed the book that stood out; it was thrown and opened while all others were in a mess but closed and pilled one after another. That led them to the library, new message and more mystery.

Sherlock was full of enthusiasm piecing together scraps and bills into the picture of Van Coon's last day; he looked around searching for the last clue when he bumped into John. He ruined the whole pursuit pointing at the shop across the street. It was like cheating, he had a diary with direction and address. Then in the shop John discovered their cipher was ancient Chinese numbering system. It all connected together into smuggling business from China. It looked like someone got greedy.

"Remind me, when was the last time it rained" Sherlock asked John looking at the wet yellow pages leaned against the door besides Lucky Kat, smuggling drop off place. It had to be connected, or it was at least suspicious.

Sherlock was preoccupied by noticing small things inside that flat; things that could tell him something about the intruder that came before him. He didn't want to let John in just yet; he could walk over some small clue.

"Stupid, stupid, it's obvious" said Sherlock to himself realizing the intruder is still in there with him. He didn't feel fear, he rarely did when he was processing and thinking, after all he could take down man with a sword barehanded, and after all he knew where intruder is hiding. But it turned out he was wrong. Strong hands cased a scarf over his neck and he tried to call out for John, but his voice was lost and he felt darkness clouding his eyes. When he thought he was over the pressure was gone and the killer gone leaving in his pocket black flower like one in Van Coon's mouth's.

He was still dizzy and his voice still didn't return when he opened the door but he tried to talk and act like nothing had happened.

"Are you getting a cold" John asked concerned forgetting his anger in a flash. It was embarrassing enough to be unable to crack that code he had no desire to look defenceless and to have worried John by his side.

Like that wasn't enough John was the one to find rest of the message and in his blunt, simple way he was smart enough to take picture of it on his phone. After that Sherlock's attempt to jog his memory looked silly. It wasn't easy to have a partner; he can see you when you're struggling to get to the answer. Sherlock has to get back in his game, he is good at this. With that determination he stood watching at the pictures, looking at now exposed numbers but they didn't tell him anything. He needed the expert, and the only person that could be an expert was Soon Yi Lao, she had to be. In her records there were no signs of travel, she wasn't the mule, she was the one to evaluate pieces.

It seemed like he got back in the museum finally noticing small thing that stood out, two pots were shiny, not just one like yesterday.

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><p><em>Hope my background thoughts of Sherlock's behavior in this one isn't too far off,<em>


	7. We don't know

**A/N:** **So this turned to be follow up to the series. Thank you for reading, reviews would be wonderful. This one is for**** NivelKenival to get one more smile, they are like cookies :)**

**Spoiler alert: Blind Banker**

**No beta, searching for one. Mistakes will be made, my apologies.**

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><p><em>Chapter 7 in which our Sherlock is a bit out of balance and trying to be polite<em>

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><p>Sherlock stood in the back while John expressed his anger and tried to get DI Dimmock's attention. He was upset and frustrated because Soon Yi died on their watch. Sherlock reacted on his failure differently. He withdrew mapping his moves searching where did he make wrong turn. It was hard to take Soon Yi's death, it was just so unnecessary. But there is nothing he can do about it and John's anger did not reach young DI, it just made him clench his jaw refusing to take responsibility, so Sherlock got moving again explaining things to DI in simple and direct way he could comprehend.<p>

"Can you prove it" detective got to the point, the only thing that mattered to police.

Sherlock had a sense of urgency, he just couldn't predict who could be next, someone just as scared as Soon Yi, so he went against himself. He didn't want to wait till morning to get things moving so he approached Molly and did that charm thing that works for some strange reason. Usually she is happy to help him out, but it was late and he had to resort to compliment making. He retreated to commenting her hair style and it worked. Such a waste of time and later on he will have to remember to even this out by some more truthful observation. He wasn't lying, when you have to do something to gain something important it's best to stick as close to truth as possible it just feels real, change was improvement, but he hated to give that kind of half truths. It would be better if she would have change her hair style completely but if he ever says that he would have to engage in explaining in which way, well that would be really wasting time.

Important thing was that he managed to move young detective so he gave him victim's books so they can decipher the code. Now that they know ancient antiquities are involved they only need few more bits of information; simple contact that must have been hidden inside that message, way to get the stolen property back.

Finding the right book however proved to be most difficult. Maybe that Chinese circus will be more helpful; it's most likely of ways to smug in killer and took him out undetected.

"I need to get some air, we'll be going out tonight" he said to John when he entered not willing to disclose what might be another dead end.

"Actually I've got a date" answered John with a smile.

"What?" Sherlock was more than a little surprised, John hadn't gone anywhere, and he was with Sherlock all the time and up all night.

"It's when two people who like each other go out and have some fun" he explained calmly like Sherlock doesn't know definition of the word.

"That's what I was suggesting" Sherlock was confused that John hadn't understood `let's go out` like let's go together and have some fun.

"No it's not, at least I hope it's not" and Sherlock got a clue, work, she/it issue, prefers women, not open to men.

"Where are you taking her?" he wasn't interested at all but he wasn't going to that date thing get it the way of their case. He got almost strangled, shot at and he got a message, this case was dangerous and he needed back up; especially if he's right and they are walking into smugglers nest. He went that far in getting John there that he called and reserved tickets in front of John knowing that he couldn't ignore that, and his doubt in his dating skills helped Sherlock's cause. When he was gone Sherlock called and changed reservation in three. He hopped that woman won't be too much of a trouble, and the bonus was he would get the chance to asses her, see if she will cause disturbance.

Sherlock was controlling himself and was polite enough to say nothing more than a hallo, and he did have things to say, like she wasn't really interested in John, but she was curious, mostly because of recent divorce and lack of desire to change herself to indulge someone else, her posture and polite demeanour clearly stated that she is just sightseeing. Still John got upset with him like he's doing something wrong. Sherlock went so far to prove he's right that he said to John that he needs him. John wasn't impressing by that.

"What's so important?" Sherlock had to ask, because he was lost not understanding the whole change in John's behaviour. He was controlled and calm, even his agitation with Sherlock was dimmed down and covered with low voice, and more importantly he was completely uninterested in the case in which he was engaged as much as Sherlock.

"I'm trying to get off with Sarah" John raised his voice and Sherlock turned away disappointed that he was consumed with such basic and clearly not happening thing.

Sherlock ignored all that and covered John's back while assessing possible dangers and angles, it was too much of them. John kept arguing with him ignoring his detached date. When the music began Sherlock gave John `I told you so` look although he wasn't sure it will be interesting show. That wasn't the point. Sarah jumped startled and grabbed John by the arm, testing the water, but she didn't give in, she let go fast enough. Deciding that John is safe out here Sherlock slid back to check the area, now is the chance with everyone at the stage. He felt safe enough with spider on the ropes. But again he was ambushed yet again with a sword. He was right he needed back up. When he was thrown to the floor dazed John rushed to help him just to be battled himself and then surprisingly that Sarah woman came to their aid and struck down the attacker and her repressed anger came in handy, she took the attacker down with steady, calm and forceful hits.

When Dimmock asked them one thing they still didn't know, what was stolen, Sherlock turned his face towards John and he did what he is good at and what just pains Sherlock to do. He said `we don't know`.

Back in the flat they were back in business thinking about the problem when that woman spoke again and despite his honest replay to go, stayed and preoccupied John with unnecessary task of collecting food. It was so primal, and distracting, digesting food just didn't go at all with thinking. It was worse than if he was on his own because she kept hanging around him instead of helping John. She roamed around with her hands in her pocket clearly stating her status as `just passing through` and with tourists curiosity looked around their flat like it was museum. He continued to work just slightly agitated, but she didn't get his body language and tone, and acted like he is ready to chat away with her. When she leaned over and touched his evidence he felt anger, looking around was bad enough, but touching was just too much. Still he restrained himself knowing John would be more than cute angry if he scares her off, he wouldn't accept his explanation she would be off anyway.

Then she made leap in deducing for which she didn't look capable of and he stopped.

"John" he said with urgency in his voice and John immediately responded leaving the food issue. How stupid of him was that he didn't look at it again? He rushed towards the museum to find the book but then he bumped into the German couple and it suddenly hit him what book he's seen in all three places, book that anyone would own, especially someone that travels allot. London A-Z, guide with anyone could walk around and look ordinary while searching and looking around.

He borrowed the book from the couple and started to decipher there on the street. It was a death treat like he initially thought.

When he decipher it he run back for John so they can get moving but he stood still in his tracks when he took in the state of the room, abandoned trays and clean plates and the cipher on the windows. He was terrified, John was missing, but he didn't dwell on the feeling he kept moving knowing every second counts. It was harder to stand the suspense in the cab just sitting still while clock is ticking and John is stranded out there.

He got there just to hear John shout `I'm not Sherlock Holmes` angry and loud. It was like John to stay scrappy in hostage situation.

"Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him" he said loudly while his voice echoed the tunnel. He and John were opposite in most of things.

"How would you describe me John" he hid himself letting his voice and echoes distract attackers. "Resourceful, dynamic, enigmatic" he said in difference to straightforward, steady and candid that was John.

Sherlock was good at taking advantage of the dark areas and insecurity of the Chen woman that wanted the pin more than his death. He was able to get to Sarah, and she was priority because she was in immediate danger, but then again that damn spider with his ropes took him with surprise, the man was invisible. Luckily for all of them John didn't give up, he walked with his chair to the machine and struck down attacker and saved Sarah in same swing. Sherlock untied Sarah telling her she's safe now, comforting her, she was clearly in shock. John was breathless but still managed to make a weak joke in midst of it all. Sherlock appreciated that quality it did lighten up even this dark and wet place. While they waited for the police he considered how having a partner had become so vital and indispensable.

After he found out they were looking for jade pin it wasn't all that hard to figure out where it is. Van Coon snitched it for his assistant who broke up with him. People are so simple; she even played with it while she was talking about him in front of Sherlock's nose. After they got good night sleep and adrenalin wore off he explained the whole story as it was happening, not in chaotic fragmented way it came to them. It was nice to tell that story in right sequence and to have somebody to listen. Sherlock used John once again to do what he hates to do, he send him to speak to Sebastian and explain way of breaking and entering, after all that was all that interested him, he wasn't interested in the story, deaths and smugglers, all he was ever interested in is the things that affected him personally. John was more than apt for that job, and Sherlock wouldn't have to go into all that polite pretending they care about each others opinions.

Of course John tried to make their success bigger than it was trying to cheer Sherlock up. Sherlock dismissed it knowing that inventiveness of criminal mind will always struggle to survive. That's why he kept reading newspaper searching for another thing he could do something about.

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><p><em>I loved the moment when Sarah took the bag in her hand, the expression of anger on him was just great, looking was bearable, but touching no, no :)<em>


	8. Massive intellect

**A/N: John's take on Blind Banker. Thnx for tuning in. I've rolled out this story to its end in my `mind palace` :) it seems it will get to the romance, but I don't think it would be fluffy one.**

**Spoiler alert: The Blind Banker**

**No beta**

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><p><em>Chapter 8 in which our hero John is driven mad with anger at his new companion.<em>**  
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><p>John was getting furious feeling helpless in front of ordinary chipping pin machine. He should know this, but he doesn't. It seems simple enough and people are waiting behind him so his discomfort grows bigger. It's just not fair that so many things have change in his absence. Not only during his time in Afghanistan, but it seems like he's been away for quite long time. When he entered the army he left many things behind submitting himself in more ascetic life. Frustration about money didn't help either. His pension just didn't cover it all. Despite flat share he just couldn't join one end with the other; money just slips away no matter how hard he tries. When, after all his effort, machine refused his card he just gave up. It's not his shopping anyway; he wouldn't buy so many things for himself ever. That damn flat mate of his has to be extraordinary in every sense. He has sent him to the market so simply and without second thought that John didn't refuse. It seemed like simple enough request at the time. He didn't expect obstacle like that damn pin machine.<p>

"You can do your own damn shopping, you know" John shouted at him, but he didn't even faltered, he just pointed him to his wallet unfazed, unmoved and unperceivable. Sometimes John wondered why in hell he agreed to this. The man was just so infuriating at times, so calm and collected. John wondered was others right about him, to be unbearable prick and sociopath.

Living with him was strange. True he was genius and he was fascinating, but he was odd in many ways and John wasn't entirely sure would he be able to adjust to all that. He can just lay there doing nothing, well nothing other than thinking, not moving, not talking, nothing. It made John uneasy. His manners didn't help, or lack of any. John would find himself more than once frowning at his relaxed face and closed eyes. Other thing was the way he ordered John around. He was doing it without thinking, like natural response, just asking for something with flat uninterested voice not bothering to even look at John, let alone smile or say please. That unnerved John. In that John could really see his upper class background that was clearly shown on his brother. John wondered how he ended up here in flat share, totally isolated from his privileged life that was there somewhere.

John tried to argue his way out of those requests but it just passed right by other guy, or he would earn the look of curiosity or confusion so he decided that is easier just to comply. Requests were simple enough like fetching a pen, sending texts or lately grocery shopping. Besides that there were experiments of all sorts, body parts, and mysterious notches on the table. There wasn't any sense in discussing it really; he just wasn't able to comprehend what normal means. John tried with explaining normal but it didn't get him anywhere, just in some awkward and strange situations.

Of course the man didn't clean, cook or collected food, anything crucial to everyday life. John imagined that he had servants to do such manual chores. Now he has John and as much John would like to fight it, his military time did teach him obedience, tidiness, and endurance, all of which he needed in great supplies to deal with his flat mate. And, because of his sister, he was rather used to wimps, changes of mood, temperament and unpredictable's.

Luckily Sherlock Holmes was better that his sister, he hasn't had in clinging towards violence. In fact he was every day more amazed by superficial judgment of that detective Donovan, about him that he will end up killing people. There was nothing aggressive about that man. Especially not in a physical way, it seemed like physic is very low on his list of priorities, or like he called it `dull and not dull things`, as John soon learned. Even in his words, which most people felt like attack there isn't any malice intended his statements are indifferent like he is, just stating the facts no passion. Passion was there only in the chase, in the discovering and deducing, nothing else. John could see even joy there when chase was on it was so contagious that John had felt it too.

Maybe that was the reason he moved in and stayed. That, and the money, and the fact that Sherlock didn't seemed to mind his own outbursts, anger and changes of mood. John admitted he isn't the best companion either. That's what finally settled him down in the armchair. He scooped through his bills and decided that he can't ignore them anymore. He needs a job, not just for bills, but for getting out more. And he isn't limping anymore. On that thought he scooped out in the chair. It seemed like the man, Sherlock, was willing to help in spite his cold demeanour. Small loan shouldn't be a problem for him; it didn't look like it will from John's point of view.

"Sherlock are you listening to me" he asked annoyed, it was impossible to talk to him sometimes.

Then Sherlock launched himself and went to the bank. It was so sudden that it took a moment for John to follow him. After a long, silent drive they entered shiny headquarters of a big bank.

"When you said we were going to the bank" John tried to ask were they here for his loan or something else but he gave up deciding that it is the latter. Something else was going on and Sherlock wasn't listening to him. It was somehow a relief; it was very uncomfortable to ask for money. John followed Sherlock's lead and smiled pretending he knows what the hell they are doing here. But if Sherlock needs sidekick, he can do that, it was more interesting than sitting at home staring at the bills. John could sense the case under Sherlock's upright back, sense of purpose.

John was more than a little surprised when he met Sebastian, Sherlock's mate from University. John hasn't imagined that Sherlock had mates ever. He instinctively corrected Sherlock's introduction him as a friend into a colleague, he felt out of place towered by two large and refined people with connections and positions. `Colleague` justified his presence here in too tall chair in front of show off manager. John plastered polite smile on his face and it seemed like even Sherlock behaved himself. He felt sorry for Sherlock and felt his anger diminishes while Sebastian talked. It must have been hell for such intelligent and energetic man to be surrounded by such people and be tied down and polite. John liked relaxed, quiet and resolute Sherlock better. It wasn't so much in what Sebastian had said, but how, behind the joke there was hidden sting, and John realized that Sherlock had no mates. John smile hadn't faltered when Sherlock had lied through his teeth. Sebastian's face was worth it.

Then, with no surprise there was a case, and interesting one, and paid one. John almost got a heart attack when Sherlock refused to be paid. He used his colleague card and took the check from Sebastian's disappointed hands. John looked at the number of advance and wasn't bothered by Sebastian without front, defeated. It wasn't John's fight, but he was mildly satisfied that Sherlock had won. Exiting the building John was feeling better, he was a colleague and he will get part of that money. It made him feel better.

"You didn't ask his secretary" John said to Sherlock's back calling on his lie and he explained to John his traces in deducing two trips around the world in two months. It was impressive, and John thought he couldn't get bored listening to this. John also noted to himself that expensive watch doesn't serve Sebastian for anything but for show and that Sherlock was tuned in the line of information's about that kind of expensive watches. John couldn't imagine Sherlock with one of those on his slim wrist. Nor could he imagine him closed in one of those glasses cubical all day. Seeing him pretending in front of speaker phone wasn't surprising, although was fascinating to see someone entirely else on his face for a brief moment. It disappeared in an instant.

John frustration came back while he stood in front of closed doors feeling like an idiot shouting on the hallway just waiting for someone to spot him. His irritation didn't fade away faced with a suicide inside.

It seemed simple enough but of course Sherlock didn't do simple. Like he scooped man's name out of his pocket like magic trick, that's how he deduced about his debts, disappearing bullet and left handed thing. John believed him, but young Welsh detective didn't. John couldn't blame him, it wasn't easy to deal with Sherlock for the first time, but when he thinks of it he had no troubles with him on the start. He was merely fascinated by his abilities; other things were the ones to annoy John. He started to lose his temper over them too often. He has to get a job because of that too.

Luckily for John he had an interview next day. He sat there calmly; all his nerves and jumpiness were washed away by whole day running previous day. It ended in the bathroom with that warm human being Sebastian besides whom Sherlock looked cuddly and fuzzy. The woman that interviewed him looked so normal, and without spikes or coldness. It was nice just to look at her so he did with a steady gaze taking in her features. She look at him and called him overqualified, he smiled and simply said he needed the money.

She seemed to be impressed by him, and she even chuckled on his clarinet line, so he got himself Mondays to work. It was ideal really, not too much work, and just enough money to keep bills in check. He thought about Sarah all the way home, it was a pleasant thought. Of course at home greeted him Sherlock with a stare at the wall asking for pen for which he waited for an hour not moving, just waiting for absent John to reply. He sighed and gave it to him, it was in arms reach. Then it slipped from his mouth that Sarah was nice, but Sherlock was busy and didn't pry. That was ok, because he wasn't willing to share possibilities that may never come true.

Quickly he got back in the chase looking at the code he will not break, new murder, new crime scene, climbing killer and chipper in the library. He believed Sherlock that they are connected, but he wasn't even trying to figure out how. He just tried to keep up what wasn't easy with Sherlock silent and withholding his theories to himself. It was a moment of satisfaction when Sherlock told him he needed advice, but it didn't last very long because his informer got him accused for graffiti spraying; he, John Watson, painting public surfaces. He managed to go through police routine with repressed anger trying not to outburst while he explained it wasn't his paint. When he reached Baker Street he was so wired up he could just punch Sherlock in his smug face which hadn't had a decency to even bother with his custody, he acted like it was nothing. Maybe he would punch him but Sherlock just turned him around and send on the mission to retrieve journalist diary. Luckily Dimmock was cooperative. After everything Sherlock had done and said young DI just called him `arrogant sod`. John's anger had diminished by Sherlock's absence, but he still got taken aback with DI's mild expression, John was used to hear worse of Sherlock. Maybe he's let his anger go too far.

John followed diary just to bump into Sherlock on the street and that colliding finally got them to some progress. He spotted the code on lucky cats, it was nice to contribute, so they sat across the street from smugglers and he ate, of course Sherlock didn't. They had an intermezzo in which John felt useful asking question and understanding, writing highlights to his notebook and surprisingly Sherlock sat long enough for John to actually chew through few bites before he jumped up and break in some random flat. Of course he left him standing on the road again like idiot that runs around behind him. He couldn't hold it in anymore so he paced around like he was the mad one and yelled at closed door.

"Can you not keep doing this please" he pleaded through letter opening.

When Sherlock got out his voice was hoarse so John forgot about his anger for now, man is maybe going down with a cold and he is shouting at him.

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><p><em>So, little off beat John, I thought he was quite agitated during the whole episode. I thing that differences from Sherlock's perspective comes from lack of information that John has on Sherlock.<em>


	9. Enigmatic

**A/N: Ok, here is John's second part of The Blind Banker. He got his anger under control and is sadly hungry most of the time.**

**Spoiler alert: The Blind Banker**

**No beta, sorry for the mistakes.**

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><p><em>Chapter 9 in which John Watson decides it's good to be him.<em>

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><p>John had found graffiti on the wall, there it was; the whole message and damn Sherlock didn't answer his phone. He hesitated for a moment but then he realised he can't have cake and eat it whole so he took out his phone taking a picture just in case. It seemed like he wouldn't be able to find it again, or that he imagined it there. So he went in search for Sherlock. That wasn't easy. They have separated and he didn't have damn GPS on Sherlock. That wouldn't be a bad idea, because the man did move fast and didn't look back. That way he could eat something from time to time, his stomach was protesting. It was fine for Sherlock not to eat while he works, but John wasn't costumed to that. In short periods where he could get some food they would stand still and Sherlock would finally started to talk to him, explain himself. That was so interesting he forgot to eat. He's noticed it just now fighting against the cold wondering will he find him. Miraculously enough he did and he found a way to the wall. He was stunned by the fact that writing had disappeared as he feared. Before he knew what is happening Sherlock took him by his shoulders and started to spin him around looking him straight in the eyes. He got confused narrowing his shoulders, trying to get to the words. But Sherlock spoke in that hypnotic manner of his, not giving room for reply so he had to struggle himself out of his hands to be able to mention his phone. Picture was there, Sherlock said nothing. John smirked, of course he would expect from him to memorise that kind of picture with his mind, John knew his limitations.<p>

The flat was stacked with books while they explored the cipher. John almost fall asleep upright, but there wasn't any time to rest. John looked at the books around him and thought how although Sherlock's knowledge looks like magic, way of absorbing information's from thin air, his knowledge came from research. He had to come in contact with some content to know it. John entertained himself for few days before this researching the gaps in Sherlock's knowledge, and there were more than few gaps. And lack of knowledge was both surprising and unexpected. It wasn't the result of not be able to learn something, but that Sherlock had dismissed whole areas of knowledge are unimportant for his work. His work was only criteria by which he collected data. There wasn't any need for broader view, especially on things one should need to socially interact with other people. In John's eyes that made him human like the rest of them, of course eccentric human still.

Next day he did fall asleep in his chair. Luckily Sarah covered for him, it wasn't the best first day ever, but she agreed to a date and that made it better. It was too long since he got a date, he felt rusted. Probably that was the reason for accepting Sherlock's suggestion on circus.

"I hope not" he answered mildly to Sherlock when he said that their dinner out counts as a date too. He said it was fine, and it was, he didn't mind light flirt when Sherlock was on fire, but he had to put the line there he shouldn't cross. It seemed like Sherlock picked up a pace with his date soon enough, but it turned to be just a smoke screen. John couldn't believe when he showed up on their date, although he found it highly suspicious that circus was Chinese, he didn't expect he'll really burst in like that. Even more shocking was his bluntness about the nature of the date.

"Because I want to get off with Sarah" he had to shout on him in frustration and it was just his luck that she popped out by his elbow in that moment. It seemed that dates were one of deleted items on Sherlock's list, or even worse, the one never collected. John lost his humor for date, Sherlock picked it just for the case, and it will be disaster. But then the music started and Sherlock gave him I told you so look. Things started to look better, Sarah even grabbed his hand, and he thought all will go well. Then he notice Sherlock had disappear, that worried him, but Sarah was holding him, maybe he got bored and left. It was started to be fun for ordinary people. John was amazed when the man on the stage climbed the ropes like they were steps there and he could see how he could climb the wall in no time. Then he noticed bump on the curtain and he was running to save his friend from a man with a sword. Stupid man was again in the line of fire. He got hit and Sarah saved the day.

In the station he forgot about Sarah leaving her to run after them as they tried to convince young DI to cooperate but he got mad letting his s become tick and they had to stand there and take it. They still hadn't figured it out, and So Lin died because they are slow. That was a sting to John. He put it behind, her death, and her beauty, bravery, fear, to deal with everything, to go on and not to ask who is to blame. He knew Sherlock is affected with her death too, she was on their watch, and there was no way to rectify it but to solve the case. No sleeping tonight.

John was surprised in the flat when he noticed Sarah was still there, she wasn't scared off by everything. He couldn't let her be scared away now by Sherlock's manners. Then she mentioned meal and his stomach remembered that he again let himself to live on few bites between actions.

The kitchen was disaster; when he's got so single that food is collected just for one meal at the time. When did he eat all that he bought three days ago for Sherlock? Was it three days already? No wonder he was starving, he'll have to watch it in the future; he can't get used to Sherlock's frantic rhythm. He felt relief when Mrs Hudson came in and save the day. He glanced at the living room, Sarah was good she managed to be near Sherlock and not run screaming.

"John" Sherlock voice came with hint of emergency and he rushed to him feeling adrenalin, he learned to recognize revelation in his voice. So Lin started to decipher the code, they've missed it. Sherlock run off to museum and John felt cut off, like strings were attached from him to Sherlock and only his manners kept him in place by Sarah. The rush was gone with Sherlock and Sarah looked at him uncomfortable. Take out was their decision and John looked forward to a meal. He continued his date with Sarah turning things towards humour trying to convince her, and himself, that there isn't like this all the time. He didn't tell her that even when Sherlock was out of chase and still there were sense of movement, like his thoughts went through the air and he bumped into them. Maybe that made him angry, because he couldn't see all those invisible obstacles all around him, he was excluded, bored while action was taking place in Sherlock's mind. When boredom did became an issue for him? Probably when he met Sherlock.

There was a knock on the door, then a bump on his head. He woke up strapped by the chair in dark tunnel. Sarah was there too, and the woman, tourist he's seen twice today, then he thought he was paranoid, but there she was. His world became dangerous place populated with murderers and smugglers. The woman called him Sherlock and he felt helpless, he could cry because he couldn't convince her he was John Watson. Being John Watson seemed like sane thing. It seemed that his and Sherlock's life intertwined to that extend that they were difficult to differentiate between them. His card and check was in his wallet, his cases on John's blog, and food that John bought Sherlock ate. He didn't have any desire to be Sherlock, to be that isolated and smart man that criminals like this one would fixate their efforts to. It all seemed lost when that crazy woman put that deadly machinery with arrow in motion. She didn't listen to his yelling but Sherlock did. After days shouting at him he decided now to show up and listen to him.

"You should believe him, you know" he said with his resonant voice and John whimpered in relief.

"Later" John managed to voice out with even a hint of humor at the situation. Of course Sherlock would sound like he's flirting with him when his voice is echoing the walls and they are surrounded by villains. In this moment he would admit him any quality he wants to hear just because he's showed up, but there was a pressing matter of sand bag.

It looked like he will manage to overpower them all, most of them did run, but So Lin's brother persisted. In his adrenalin state John managed to get up and walk with a chair strapped to his back. He fell over. Sherlock was being strangled; Sarah sat in front of a harpoon. John desperately kicked the machine with his feet trying to aim it. He let his head fall to the floor when it hit the killer.

The date was over, Sarah got her shock blanket, and Sherlock got his moment of glory in front of young DI Dimmock. John got whole night sleep. In the morning they went to the bank.

"We were shot at, strangled, and strapped down, we need to get paid." John said determinately and Sherlock didn't argue with him.

"You go and tell him about climbing thing, that's all he's interested in." Sherlock instructed him and he complied. Sebastian was reluctant in giving away the check it was like he wasn't expecting Sherlock would figure it out. Van Coon's secretary yelled and John turned to see Sherlock smiling at her. Whatever anyone said about him, he loved to help, not just solve puzzles.

Afterward they sat in their flat eating a decent meal John had made for them. They talked over Sherlock's newspaper and John saw young man writing graffiti of an eye so they could clearly see it from their dining table. It left John feeling uneasy. Main criminals were on the lose, and someone of them was interested in Sherlock. John looked at Sherlock who was hidden behind his papers. He hopped that graffiti will be painted over before Sherlock spots it. He was troubled enough because general has managed to escape. No matter what he said John could see right through him.

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><p><em>When I've finished this I was surprised on how little attention John had gave Sarah through their date<em>. _Sherlock has a way of stealing spot lights._


	10. But it's a Solar system

**A/N: here, I had this for awhile so I thought to post it finally. I'm not tuned in for a moment and not sure when I'll get back to finish this story.**

**Spoiler Alert: The Great Game  
><strong>

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><p><strong><strong>_Chapter 10 in which our hero John is trying to understand and accept extraordinary and ends up angry.  
><em>

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><p>John called his project `humanizing Sherlock`. He didn't quite know why exactly did he care so much, but he learned that he did care. As much as he gets angry and annoyed by Sherlock he was far more upset when others thought of him as strange and heartless. After the case of The Blind Banker, as he called it on his blog, they started to get more cases. John thought that was because Sherlock started to look reachable through his eyes, and the paying thing did help. He kept that to himself, knowing that Sherlock has somewhat unusual view on the money issue; being privileged he didn't understand how people were suspicious about free services. John kept bills and gave Sherlock bigger part of their checks and he was careful to adjust the price to the recipient. There was no need to keep high prices when Sherlock had no need for that. John wasn't desperate for the money now when he had a job and a pension, so they could afford it.<p>

It was funny really how Sherlock was upset with pointing out his human qualities and limitations when he finally read his blog. John stood still and even mocked at him because of his all so serious web site that no one reads. It was funny how John's got attached to his blog, it became more than Ella had anticipated, it wasn't just sad attempt to deal with everyday life; it was a display of his new expanded life.

All that didn't mean him and Sherlock now had a peaceful cheerful coexistence, it only meant that John was more at peace with Sherlock's whims and could more easily deflect his disdain. Besides John had a job, and Sarah was there somewhere so he couldn't really complain. Although that thing with Sarah didn't go as planned, she stayed distant and he wasn't entirely sure how to bridge that gap. Getting to the touchy side wasn't all that easy for John, he waited for the sign so he could get in motion other neglected parts of him.

Meanwhile he worked the cases with Sherlock; only trouble was that Sherlock considered most of cases dull and unworthy his attention so soon enough there was nothing for him to do. John wasn't entirely ready for bored Sherlock. He had never seen anything like it. Uninhibited as Sherlock was he wasn't ready to dim his boredom for a slightest bit. He became mean and ugly, emanating his feelings throughout whole apartment. When John heard the gunshots he rushed upstairs thinking of trouble just to find bored Sherlock is shooting at the wall. That was too much for John. He acted as a child but with means and freedom of an adult, he treated John's gun as simple tool of releasing his frustration on the wall like kid would do with stuffed bat.

Head in the fridge was just too much; he had to look at it again. After that he couldn't look at him, or be emerged into his feelings, all that boredom provoked frustration in John, he wanted to shake him into normality. He tried to argue with Sherlock in spite of all that, of course there was no arguing with great Sherlock.

"Stop inflicting your opinions on the world." Sherlock snared at him and John realized he can't just dismiss that as his whim, and that he was bothered by his anger. That's why he went to Sarah searching for sanctuary. All he found was a couch, bumpy couch. He tried to see it with humour, and was able to get a bit of flirtation in the morning, things looked well with prospect of breakfast, but then he saw Baker Street on the news and rushed home.

There he found brothers in chess mode in the middle of ruined living room acting like nothing is odd. Of course they noticed his stiffed back and made conclusions, he wasn't bothered by that, not anymore. He was relieved seeing Sherlock alive, confused when Mycroft handed the case file to him.

There was a moment of silence where he got his bearings. "Brother Rivalry" he said thinking how ordinary is that even in their less ordinary way "Now we're getting somewhere" but roller coaster of emotions started again with a call from Yard. There was a case worthy of Sherlock, but there were new unexpected readers of John's blog. John looked around feeling guilty. He found it comforting to point out Sherlock's human shortages, but he wasn't planning to confront him with mocking of their colleagues.

After that there was a frenzy of riddles and competition with ticking clock trying to catch up with the hidden bomber. It was a blur of chasing, conclusions, last minute savings, and bomb that went off. But there was a few moments of peace when Sherlock thought and John stood behind feeling a bit like parrot on his shoulder, feeling a bit useless, but Sherlock claimed that John helps him think so he stood there behind trying his best to contribute; even if it is just taking his phone out of his pocket and reading messages instead of Sherlock. He stifled when Sherlock asked him but he held that complaint about being a servant down, it would only distract Sherlock from his task, the clock did tick.

Moments after that Molly came in introducing her new boyfriend. Of course Sherlock had to cut that down claiming that the guy was gay. Sure he was a bit cheesy but still.

"You wash your hair" Sherlock told him off "that doesn't count as products."

Molly rushed out John watched it all in slow motion thinking how helpless he is to prevent Sherlock's words from coming out.

"That wasn't kind" he said with determination. Sherlock was genuinely battled when he told him that he crossed the line.

After that Sherlock challenged him to say something about knickers before him, it was pointless to try to beat Sherlock, but he complied agreeing with humiliation of defeat, it did help Sherlock put his words out quicker; and truth to be told John couldn't resist competing if for nothing, just for contributing sake.

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><p><em>Here, I'm not sure how interesting this was<em>. _Hope you like it. Tuning out for now._


	11. You wash your hair

**A/N: now we'll switch between them to make it more interesting. It's Sherlock's turn. Maybe we'll get beta soon, but who knows, sorry for mistakes.**

**Spoiler alert: The Great Game  
><strong>

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><p><em>Ch 11 in which our hero Shrelock is a bit disappointed by waste time and misplaced sentiment.<br>_

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><p>For Sherlock it was a good day. He knew it was a terrible day in the same time, but there were terrible days all around and he wasn't guilty for them, nor did he feel guilty for savouring the moment when he could use his higher functions in the way that was worthy of his mind. And his mind did work that day, it was a powerful day. Of course there were losses but he could handle it, put it aside because sentiment did get in the way of the judgment. He was rather disappointed in John when he displayed his all mighty compassion and emotion, regret, he was a doctor after all, and a soldier, he would expect more understanding of nature of life, cruel and unforgiving, and of course he became useless after submitting to his sentiment. Sherlock hadn't had time for that, there were bomber to be caught and his mind did work overtime. There were puzzles all over the place.<p>

John was worthy company and for some way his quiet and thoughtful nature did help him think, and his open faces full of expressions did come as fun distraction. Maybe he loved him for the fact that he never hide himself, he had nothing he was so ashamed of that he would shield it from the world. It was so refreshing because it brought with it ability to just look pass Sherlock's lack of reasoning what's proper and what's not proper to say or do. Proper was such waste of time, maybe the biggest one around. But today it seemed that Sherlock did pass even patient doctor's limits.

First there was the thing with Molly's fake boyfriend. He hated those make-believes guys that ran around displaying themselves on the market and pretending they aren't there. Using girl for a shield was so demining; like he would ever call someone so fearful and reckless. Sherlock maybe was manipulative when he needed something, and didn't bother to say the right thing, but he would never sub come to such a way of deceiving by tagging along behind someone and lying. Sherlock considered himself fully truthful, except when his case needed disguise. He was quite good at impersonating because he understood those he acted to be.

His doctor on the other side was so truthful that he couldn't be someone else if his life depended on it. That made Sherlock smile, it was like having measure of things besides him, not that he was the measure itself, but he was so steady, he was like permanent spot in the changing universe, something that could tell you where you stand considering that spot. He gave him something to measure his own place in the world. Apparently today he didn't stand so well with righteous attitudes, despite his hard work he was heartless one again. That made him mad. It wasn't the feeling he lingered upon, but it was a short distraction from the case, and was rather disappointing to see his doctor giving up like that, but it didn't lasted so he put it aside.

John was soon enough back in the race and he kept up with all he's got and that was enough for Sherlock to be focused. It was fun to see him pretending to be a journalist not changing a bit about himself but just holding writing pad. He was so confused at it that no one would challenge his fake persona because they wouldn't think he would go at length to lie like that. It was second time that day that he had to explain to John compulsive nature and gay related details. It was a fun really just how ignorant John was, having a gay sister and all.

"I put products in my hair" he said earlier and it was a sweet argument because he didn't even use regenerator, even less other things, he was so bluntly man that he wasn't even slightly aware of his appearance. It was like he was deliberately demining his own attractiveness. The clothes he wore were worn out baggy and not at all flattering. Lack of any grooming left him looking worn himself, like he's just got out of bed and just put something on, like those jumpers of his. But despite that he had his appeal, something luring about him, not like that fake straight guy that Molly dragged along. He was just distasteful, if he's pretending it could be at least a bit more subtle. He was like a hammer in the head and not at least bit attractive. To think people passed him by as straight was not understandable. Like Molly, she hadn't had a courtesy to even remember John's name, it was a lack of manners, it wasn't like John was here for the first time. Anyway he was doing her a favour, and John's opinion that it wasn't nice was just illogical.

After that he gave John a chance to reason and it was all fun to see his mind works, trying to get dots together and there was some reasoning involved, but of course he missed out details and their meaning. They were equally clumsy them two, just in opposite areas. Luckily Sherlock was the master where it matter, in his mind, he easily could let John be master of proper and sentiment, he wasn't sorry he was cut off on that.

Like he was cut off from jumping when his brother says queen and the country; he knew that most of the time it was only his big ass on the line. Sherlock couldn't care less about that. But he let it be assigned to John, which made it fun, he could watch him walk and think, and that was a worthy sight. It wasn't important that he'll most likely fail, but the he would try, he won't give up just because it's hard and unlikely that he would crack it. It was a simple enough task and there were no hurry to disclose it when he could walk behind John and watch how his thoughts were formed by routes he made.

After awhile he started to think there is something more behind that incident with missing plans. It was just too big of coincidence that it all occurred at the same time and he couldn't really believe that it all revolved around him solely.

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><p><em>Ok, this one was because of all reviews. Thank you.<em>


	12. I've disappointed you

**A/N: finally I've got further with Great Game, I want to finish as much as I can till summer so I'll try to do this or give up**

**Spoiler alert: The Great Game  
><strong>

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><p><em>Chapter 12 in which John learns distinction between helping and caring.<br>_

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><p>John got himself entangled in the cases like never before. On one side Mycroft's plans, on the other the bomber and his riddles. The unsettling fact was that the bomber designed it all to be a game for Sherlock.<p>

"Has it occurred to you that the bomber is playing a game with you?" asked John and all he got as a reply was a yes with no disturbance. Shortly after that came new warning with a picture and John had a opportunity to gave his part to the case.

"Lucky for you I've been more than little unemployed" said John. He never thought that his watching television with Ms. Hudson will prove useful.

After that he even got one wild moment when he thought he solved the case in that gay household. Sitting awkwardly in the puffy sofa with old gay man staring straight into him he thought everything was simple enough as one cat's scratch. Of course he was wrong and Sherlock got the right answer, Raul a house boy he didn't properly noticed.

That was so often the case that he wondered why did he bothered. But then bomb was activated killing old woman and many others, and he knew why he bothers. He was trained to react to the danger, and he got himself into that training because he had inclination towards helping, and this was even more than stitching, it was preventing injuries. Earlier he was angry at Sherlock for his lack of compassion, for his cold calculation that made that old woman wait all those additional hours. Of course Sherlock had an answer to that, gaining advantage. It did silenced John, but he was more and more aggravated by Sherlock's play-like approach to this case.

"Well obviously I've lost that round" Sherlock said after long silence. "Although technically I did solve the case." He still talked in terms of victory.

John struggled to understand something bigger behind it all.

"Do you think he wants to be caught?" He asked hoping for some sane answer.

"I think he wants to be distracted" said Sherlock and John smiled at his own naivety to hope he'll get any other reason.

"You'll be very happy together" he said to Sherlock accepting that Sherlock and the bomber were made from the same cloth. They saw people just as pawns in their game, nothing real. John tried because he couldn't help himself to gain some reaction from him, some human emotion, but nothing came out.

"Did I disappoint you?" Sherlock was confused and finally got something other than calculating paths and courses of the game.

But then Sherlock looked at him.

"Don't make people into heroes John. Heroes don't exist. And if they did I wouldn't be one of them."

And that was the cold hearted fact that John had difficulties to accept because sometimes Sherlock would shine and look like a hero, times like this made that bitter expirience.

"Oh, you're angry with me so you won't help" Sherlock accused him of stop helping because of compassion so he sat down and continued with the work. No matter how bothered he was with Sherlock's lack of reaction there were someone else on the line, and they needed to keep working.

John looked into dead man's life and talked to fiancé of MI6 agent trying to keep Mycroft's case somewhere. When he arrived Sherlock waited him on the door.

"No hobbies?" He dismissed John's efforts right off. "Luckily I wasn't idle" he said and took them to the tunnels and explained his homeless network which gave light to their earlier meeting with homeless girl. When golem's shadow appeared on the wall John wished he had his gun, but he didn't even finish that sentence when Sherlock handed it to him. Golem escaped in the car and John was able to provide on direction of his next target, which made him less idle than Sherlock assumed.

The fight with golem was almost suicidal but they managed to pull through somehow but their scientist was dead and they didn't have the answer. They stood helpless in front of the painting while Sherlock tried to fight his way to solution when a child's voice came through the speaker. In that moment even Sherlock lost his detachment, his cool game begging for some more time, feeling the reality of situation. Of course game was back on when he discovered the solution, but that glimpse of care and fear was enough for John to get Sherlock back closer to hero domain.

That discovery of supernova in the last seconds was exhilarating and exhausting experience that put John on a new high. Before that John considered for a split of a second that Donovan was right and that he should get to fishing, but after riddle was solved he forgot about that.

In the case of missing plans there weren't smear on the train tracks, and there was no ticket on the body. He just started to see a thought when Sherlock startled him.

"How long are you been following me?" he knew instantly he didn't just pop up accidentally.

"Since the start" he answered simply and they went to solve this at last. The brother, of course it was someone John had come across. The plans were in their hands, everything turned out to be stupid and impulsive without real means to sell the plans.

At home it was cold because of the windows they still didn't get around to fix, and Sherlock was watching crappy television yelling at the screen, John had finished his blog entry.

"I knew it was dangerous" he said to Sherlock about him watching telly and tried to get confession that last couple of days were full of things that Sherlock stated useless to his cases but proved to be vital. Of course he contradicted him that that knowledge didn't help John to solve it.

"No, but I'm not world's only consulting detective" he said and went off to Sarah hoping for something more substantial this evening. Sherlock surprised him on his way out; he said he'll do the shopping. It was some kind of redemption, he was sure of that, but what kind he wasn't sure, with Sherlock you could never tell of which things he would repent.

And just when he thought he'll get some time off he found himself all strapped up in explosives by the swimming pool. He was scared senseless but somehow he found it ridiculous, the swimming pool and all, why here? He should have known... Sherlock would, but his mind refused to work anything else than project trajectories of his body pieces scattered around the water and walls, or would they survive the blast? There were awful allot explosives on him, but surely they won't blow up. Sherlock would come, he would think a way; he was smart that way, smart enough not to get upset and emotional. He will outthink that silly man. All John had to do is to stand there and let himself to be rescued, not the gracious of all roles, but better that than be blasted away. That triggered new string of thoughts related to explosion victims and he had seen his share of that, the smell, and screams. He won't get a chance to scream, but still.

No, Sherlock will come, he forced himself to focus on that, he'll put his mind to motion and work his magic, maybe even with sense of glee and triumph. John will not mind that, not this time. He just needs to show up, figure it out. Time dragged along too slow, it seemed like eternity.

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><p><em>Comments are welcome.<em>


	13. Do you care

**A/N: Sherlock's turn on thinking and caring**

**Spoiler alert: The Great Game  
><strong>

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><p><em>Chapter 13 in which Sherlock tries to stay detached in order to solve everything on time<br>_

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><p>Additional time he had gained from bombers repeating Sherlock used to find out more about people that surrounded Adam West who had foolish enough to carry around missile plans and to go into past trying to locate their master mind. First one was easy, second one was frustrating.<p>

"I'm on fire" he shouted after he solved Janus Car's case and some of that feeling lingered on but frustration had started to creep up to him. Especially after old woman died. That disturbed his thought processes but he was quick to regain them and re-establish that he did what was needed, she exposed herself trying to be heroic.

Sherlock though about their opponent trying to understand. John was quick to understand, like booking a holiday, he describe it simply and Sherlock found it fascinating as a though, mental challenge, not real option. He was deep in though when John interrupted him with implying that he's somehow involved with his opponent. It took Sherlock some time to catch up with his train of thoughts. Once again it revolved about lives he knew nothing about.

"Do you care about that at all?" John challenged him and Sherlock was surprise to find he was disappointed in him. That made him angry, he wasn't the one to blame if the doctor like to think too much of the people. He had a job, he loved his job and that was enough, why should he care. It didn't help him one bit in solving the case, it only clouded his mind making it hard to see the right way.

He cleared his mind to make room for the painting case. Luckily John was smart enough to carry on and be useful. Sherlock couldn't deny his input but still he was annoyed by his pleading for emotions but he couldn't stay mad at him for long so as they approached golem's hide out he made a reconciliation comment about the stars.

"Beautiful" he said and John had reacted like he usually does with a retort, everything was sorted. After golem got away John proved useful once again and they tracked him quickly.

Fighting with the Golem could have gone better and he could have aimed better but they managed to live it through. There was a moment where Sherlock thought he was over but John stepped in and very calmly informed golem that he will shoot him. Sherlock believed him, and golem did to so they got the chance to fight some more. After he was gone Sherlock was empty of ideas. Their last link was dead so he summoned that irritating women to the gallery, she was only remaining link. He just knew it. He confronted her at the museum and she didn't even flinch when she found out that he is not employee, she expected all kinds of trouble, but it wouldn't do him any good if she would tell him.

He watched at the painting when child's voice started to count. Sherlock froze in that moment, the voice was thin with fear and he reacted like he hated to, with fear. Of course mind behind it all tried everything woman, man, old and now young, to provoke a reaction out of him, to get him to miss a step. He pushed that aside trying to concentrate, what did he miss, it had to be there, stars, it had to be, and then finally voice from the star presentation came back to him, the picture had it too. He was exhilarated when it finally clicked. He typed it, counting stopped, he handed the phone to Lestrade, he wasn't going to lead another of that talks.

Later on he retrieved missile plans he needed. Enough of time was passed and they weren't out of country, which had to be it, it was too conveniently placed not to be linked. Of course John came close to understanding and Sherlock stepped in to explain. It wasn't hard to make brother talk. It was hard to wait for the final beep. Sherlock had decided to get ahead of the game not just to dance to his tune. Pool seemed like proper place to lure him out, he won't be able to resist that kind of bait, he loved theatre that went with the game. This was dangerous game he played and he was just about to put his life at stake so he had to wait for John to get out. He couldn't afford to drag him into the picture, everything would become blurry and stakes would go too high. Midnight seemed like proper setting; he needed to be sure Moriarty personally would show his face and those small details made the bait irresistible. Sherlock knew, because he himself would be unable to resist.

To pass the time Sherlock turned on the television, he couldn't stand the tension of waiting, and even more there was a small chance that he would turn on John's detection of oncoming danger. He had that on him, and he would refuse to be left behind. It was frustrating to watch how ignorant people can be at spotting simple genetic markers. John had typed behind him asking about the plans, Sherlock lied that he gave them to Mycroft; because he knew how to lie he added a dispute that he and Mycroft had about knighthood to make it more real. Soon John was back to his campaign to make Sherlock admit that he lacked some knowledge, and missed something important. Sherlock retorted back and received recognition of his unique position in the world. That made him smile; he loved how John always had that in mind.

"True" he said and soon John was up and off to Sarah's. Man on the television again said something stupid, John informed him about risotto not even realizing he's doing it again, caring about what he'll eat and will he when he's on his own. It was nice so Sherlock said he'll get milk, it was something John would appreciate, something simple enough to make things more even. Of course he noticed discrepancy in his behaviour but didn't put too much to it as Sherlock stared straight to the monitor. Soon he was gone and Sherlock finally got to type his message. Midnight, he'll watch allot of irritating things till then.

When he entered the pool he wasn't afraid, this was a game and he was determined to win it. When John appeared and spoke up Sherlock had a moment of pure horror, it could never be John, no, he's not such a poor judge of character, not John. That would change whole universe of meaning, but then he revealed bombs on his chest and Sherlock experienced relief and fear in the same time. Of course, stakes were higher; John was the balance to make him lose.

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><p><em>pool scene on next, and then into Adler's arms :)<em>


	14. Sherlock, run

**A/N: here is pool scene and beginning of Adler's case**

**Spoilers: The Great Game, A Scandal in Belgravia  
><strong>

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><p><em>Chapter 14 in which our hero John is all strapped up until he's not<br>_

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><p>As Sherlock entered the pool area of course he was talking all confident and arrogant certain he has all the strings in his hands. His confidence will cost him someday, thought John to himself listening to his voice. He felt relief and anger because he came.<p>

"Brought you a little getting to know you present" he said and John cringed knowing he had set everything up. Why would their opponent come out to play if Sherlock didn't lure him out? John walked slowly to sight following instructions, he had to be careful not to forget to listen that voice in his ear, one mistake and everything will go to hell.

"John?" Sherlock was confused finally realizing he wasn't the one who knows it all. It frustrated John how he tend to forget that he is brilliant but really often just wanders in the dark like the rest of them. John talked in a strained voice fighting to keep himself on course and not to say any of his inner thoughts.

Then that singing voice of Jim Moriarty of all people flew above the water. Ironic how he felt angry at Sherlock for treating him and pointed out that he might be wrong. Look how wrong was he, he didn't see what Moriarty was, only what he wanted him to see. Moriarty talked and John was barely listening them lead their game further. He tried to find a way, something to do. He didn't care about explosive strapped to his chest; he only wanted to see that irritated high voice dead and Sherlock safe. So when he got his chance he was ready. Invisible behind wasn't such a bad position. He surged forward.

"Sherlock run" he shouted thinking how he could buy him some time but Moriarty just kept talking keeping him here.

"You rather shown your hand there, Doctor Watson" said Moriarty and then red dot appeared on Sherlock's forehead. John saw it and let go of Moriarty. Damn him and his game of life and death. Sherlock better pull them out of this one. But it seemed like Moriarty just wanted to save himself some fun for later, some twisted play to make Sherlock suffer; like prolonged pleasure of torturing. After some more words and threats he was gone and they stood alone in the pool area. Sherlock stood still watching him leave keeping his superior posture, but when the door was closed he rushed to John and frantically started to rip the explosives off him.

"Sherlock" John tried to stop him but his voice was weak and soon Sherlock had peeled the explosives of his back and send them sliding along the tiles. When the pressure of the explosives were off him John's legs gave up from sudden release of relief. He crouched down leaning to the wall and discovered that in sudden change and withdrawal of adrenalin he experienced a hard on. He was a Doctor and didn't think much of it but surely it was a bit embarrassing.

"Glad no one saw that" he murmured at loud and got Sherlock's attention.

"You, ripping my clothes off in darkened swimming pool. People might talk" he said lightly their constant mistaken-for-gays identity.

"People do little else" Sherlock smiled and everything was back to normal but then that crazy bastard of Moriarty was back saying he changed his mind. Sherlock looked at him and John knew from the start, what was the only option in which their death wouldn't be in vain. He nodded and Sherlock pointed a gun to explosives. Moriarty watched with disturbing focus and John thought they are dead, Sherlock was determined enough to fire. But then of all silly things Moriarty's phone started to ring most ridicules of all tunes, maybe ridicules made it even scarier. He shouted at phone and all his madness could be seen. Whoever could think that Sherlock was mad like that? Moriarty talked some more and said that it was bad day to die and he was off, just like that.

"Someone changed his mind" said Sherlock still drawn to beat him. John thought how Moriarty had done it on purpose, he lured Sherlock into the game, and now he had assured his continued interest. He knew Sherlock far too well; he knew he'll never stop searching now. Warning my ass, though John, more like recruiting moment. Although John didn't doubt they all could have died there and then only because Moriarty would find fun to call on their bluff and Sherlock wasn't bluffing.

After Moriarty was gone there was silence in the pool and following days were filled with refused cases, mysterious bodies even Sherlock didn't know what to do with, and John's blog. John was more at ease with Sherlock after the pool. It was like Sherlock was back in his mysterious, enigmatic if you will; hero domain. Whatever he said, what he did was rather fantastic, and his mistakes and arrogance only made it human, understandable. John kept putting that to his blog and clients kept finding them. Sherlock showed his interest for his blog, it was always with disdain but that was his way. John was satisfied because he felt that was one field he was beating Sherlock and his countless sorts of tobacco.

Sherlock kept talking to him and that was evidence enough that he appreciate him and that his help is needed. He even kept talking to him when he was away; he discovered that as he held laptop for him to see the crime scene. He was in his sheet probably just to annoy John, and it worked. Sometimes John thought Sherlock just loves to make him angry. Then helicopter came and everything became mad and hilarious again.

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><p><em>Sherlock is on next. I think this scene has a bit more for him than it has to John.<em>


	15. You're alright

**A/N: The Great Game, Sherlock is facing his odds and carries on**

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><p><em>Chapter 15 where our hero Sherlock is faced with heartlessness and decides he likes heart better.<em>

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><p>Sherlock was too close to losing for comfort. He kept talking to Moriarty keeping his head in the conversation but it was hard to think clearly, John was standing there all strapped in explosives, he couldn't just run like they use to do. He kept his gaze steady on Moriarty but his eyes swayed towards John, Moriarty had to notice that in his mad genius. Strapping John up showed he knew already, but Sherlock didn't have to admit it, not here anyway.<p>

"You're alright?" he allowed himself to check, John's silence made him uneasy, his retorts and rants became necessary background for his thoughts. Sherlock kept his dance with Moriarty, after all that was the point to keep him entertained so he wouldn't blow them all up just out of boredom. Of course he threw away missile plans, even if he wanted them there would be too much to admit it in front of the audience. Keeping the advantage was more important to him than any gain or plan.

There was some flirt inside Moriarty's mad banter but his tacky interpretation of gay man just made it clear he had to mock everything. Sherlock had broad sense of irony and disdain for the world around him, but he understood that the ways of the world didn't care about his estimations. On the other hand Moriarty despised everything and he was out to punish the world for its boring nature. That made him fairly dangerous. Nevertheless that wouldn't bother Sherlock much because he would simply be convinced that he would win, if only there wasn't matter of John in explosives. That made weight work against him, he didn't like odds laid out that way and he suspected that was the point of tonight's demonstration.

Of course John had made his bold move and shouted for Sherlock to run. Not a muscle moved when he heard that, he stayed fixed to his spot, John couldn't run so that suggestion was pointless. It wouldn't be so pointless if someone else offered that kind of trade, but the stakes weren't in their hands. Red dots appeared and John backed away. Moriarty talked some more starting to bore Sherlock, they both knew he would go away; this was the show to announce future fight.

"I'll burn the heart out of you" said Moriarty and to Sherlock discontent somewhere inside he felt fear from madness in his eyes.

"I have been loudly informed that I don't have one" he said evenly his biggest victory; he loved when people saw just his cold front.

"But we both know that is not quite true" Moriarty said jauntily and Sherlock hated him for his truly unattached heart. Sherlock always wanted to have one like it but up close it didn't look appealing at all, John looked better at his worst days.

"Catch...you...later" Sherlock said as Moriarty finally exited. As soon as the door closed behind him Sherlock was on his knee taking that damn explosive vest out of John, it shouldn't be there at all. He tossed it away feeling how adrenalin is making its spiral down, he discovered himself to shake. Too much was at stake, he should have been more careful.

"That thing, you did, that you offered to do, was good" he said to John trying to regain his evaluating nature pacing to calm his nerves, he was mad at himself for bringing this situation on them in the first place.

"I'm glad no one saw that" said John with shaken voice.

"Mhm? What?" Sherlock's mind was slow; he didn't follow his train of thoughts because he was still all wrapped up in exploding scenarios looking at all the angles.

"You, ripping my clothes off in darkened swimming pool. People might talk" John said with shaken humour and Sherlock finally stopped and smiled, John was ok.

"People do little else" he said in return feeling warmth returning to his hands but then Moriarty decided he has to be centre of attention some more. Sherlock was tired of that deal of cards; he was ready to teach him some fear. He looked at John to find acclamation for his decisions and John nodded giving him freedom to do what he has to. John had that in him; he was ready for the outcome whatever it was. Moriarty kept talking in background of predictability of their game and how Sherlock could look at all his angles.

"But everything I have to say has already crossed your mind" he said with boredom demining their game so he could cut to the dying part.

"Probably my answer has crossed yours" said Sherlock evenly again cold and controlled, if they have to die here, Moriarty would surely join them. Moriarty looked at explosive weighing how important is to him not to back down. Then the tense moment was cut through by most ridiculous ring tone ever. Moriarty acted like spoiled teenager mimicking to Sherlock like they were friends. Sherlock mimicked back mocking him in process, when they were mad they were mad as hell. Soon Moriarty muted the phone and informed them they'll die another day. With that he exited like true disturbed genius talking about shoes. Sherlock was suddenly worried by that call, like it was personal peril for him, something he can't see but have to solve anyway. Sherlock looked at John still sitting on the floor. This has exhausted him more than he wanted to show.

Following days were boring again but filled with activity Sherlock needed. Just refusing cases was something energetic, but unsolved mysterious case of man in a trunk made his mind work trying to fight the void of information. It was good as long as things kept coming no matter how mundane they were. Activity was good for him and John because pending threat of Moriarty would make them too nervous in other case. That's why he even started to read some of John's blog, to keep track of his companion. John seemed fine; he had that ability to forget everything that was out of reach. On the other hand Moriarty's presence out of grasp scratched Sherlock's mind. He didn't like the way Moriarty singled out John, it was too close to truth to be comfortable. It was the reason Sherlock considered he might lose in their final fight; he had to arm against that.

But that had to wait, like he had to wait. In mean time there was work to be done and sometimes it took him nowhere. Frustrating enough John felt the urge to put even that to his blog. Even worse were his titles, since Study in Pink he resented the way he put their cases simply and bluntly, like Speckled Blonde. Sherlock could get snippy as he wanted but John seemed to retreat to his blunt rubber nature, he just didn't care for Sherlock's disdain as long as other people read him.

Then there was that stupid man with car that backfired, it was simple enough. In situation like that, with limited number of variables and simple witness that wouldn't make up something like that it was simple number of options. All he needed is to find offending object to explain it and he made John go there. It wasn't hard; John was easy to persuade to stretch his legs, he was quite fond of walking since he could do that properly. When he was alone he stripped down and covered himself into sheet. He liked to do that when John was away, it gave him certain dose of physical and mental freedom, and even he needed sometimes to feel corporal. Having John grunting on the other side of the camera made it even more fun.

"We agreed" Sherlock said simply when John objected.

"When did we agree on that?" John was ready for a fight.

"We agreed yesterday" he said looking for clues in the grass.

"I wasn't even at home yesterday. I was in Dublin."

"It's hardly my fault you weren't listening" answered Sherlock simply; it wasn't like John's being there would change Sherlock's decision. But John liked to fuss about it anyway.

"You just carry on talking when I'm away?" John wondered.

"I don't know how often you are away?" Sherlock answered irritated, his mind had working habits, and talking to John became part of them.

After that John threatened him with a mute button and then men in sharp suits came and tried to make him dress up like he was their puppet. Of course he kept his sheet; it was an opportunity of a lifetime to walk around in sheet to show his respect of the Queen and Country.

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><p><em>I can't really hear what Sherlock says before he states he doesn't have a heart so I went with loudly, if you can hear it please do tell. Thnx.<br>_


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